Bound in Black
by Anhalir
Summary: Alec binds himself to Magnus before battling Valentine. Magic or no, it is going to take some getting used to. This story is following Malec from Max's death through the battle on the Broceline Plains. How do they acclimate to each others ability, and deal with the emotional turmoil to boot?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey All. Thanks to valiantmongoose, I have a new story! The prompt, as you can read above, was about Alec and Magnus' experience with the binding rune. Unfortunately we're not getting to that in this chapter. This was originally supposed to be a one shot and then I got a little carried away… it happens sometimes. *coughs* a lot *coughs* I don't intend for it to be very long. I am hypothesizing about five chapters right now. That is subject to change, though. This chapter is mostly devoted to giving the audience my version of Alec. You've seen my Magnus, now you get to meet my Alec. This takes place in Cassie Clare's **_**City of Glass**_**. If you haven't read it, I don't think there is much spoiler-y in here. I will say this as a blanket statement. I have read TID and the Bane Chronicles and use what I have observed in both to help me represent Magnus. I don't outright reference them, but there are slight suggestions. If I do ever add something that is a spoiler, I will let you know. Hopefully you all like it. I feel like the first couple parts are a bit rough, but I am pleased with the last bit. The characters are Cassandra Clares, I just take liberties. **

Alec was suspended in a state of abeyance. The tears he longed to cry for Max eluded him as his eyes twitched over the crowd. His heart was bursting at the seams prepared to bleed out over the hall's cold, stony floor, but something disallowed him his desire; a constricting pain that tightened with each passing glance like a hand squeezing his heart. An exceptionally tall man with catlike eyes would have been easy to spot, but as Alec's eyes roved over face, after face, after face there was nothing. He knew, logically, that this fear was unwarranted. That Magnus had left for Brooklyn and would return as soon as he could, but that didn't stop the apprehension that settled into the pit of his stomach making him feel weighted and slowed, or the compulsion to search for him amongst the crowd. He had finally been able to confront Magnus about his behavior, and by proxy resolve their ridiculous spat. He couldn't lose him, too, and every second that passed without him within eyesight made Alec's irrational emotions drown any commonsensical thought that remained. In light of this, Alec was becoming aware of the hold the warlock had on him. His thoughts, feelings, dreams, everything centered on that man, and with a flick of his wrist – or the lack thereof – he could send Alec's world into pandemonium.

A body fell into him, and instantly, his hands lifted to catch around thin but masculine shoulders. Instead, his arms fell through the empty air until they landed on shorter, much thinner shoulders. Isabelle. A thick thud murmured from within his chest as his heart fought to break through the constraints of his anxiety, but the latter refused to budge. She was sobbing uncontrollably into the fabric of his shirt causing a wetness to blossom on his chest, and all he could do was pull her closer. He yearned to cry with her, to share in her pain, as it was his fault that Max was dead, but his body refused. He had had reservations about Sebastian. On multiple occasions, he had caught the boy staring at him with lifeless black eyes and a hint of disgust, but Alec had thought it was simply paranoia. That he was projecting his worry of being outed onto those surrounding him out of fear of being transparent. He was wrong, so very wrong and his little brother paid for it, and Izzy almost had as well.

When had things started spiraling out of control?

Alec's hand buried into the Izzy's hair, seeking out some sense of calm and comfort, but he found none. Everything was wrong. Belaying that the head was too short, the hair was too long. His fingers would comb through it, and where they expecting the hair to end they only found more. The scent of the shampoo was off leaving his nose twitching every time he accidentally inhaled too deeply. Then, a sticky viscous substance coated his fingers. At first, Alec's mind told him it was hair gel, but considering whom he was holding it didn't make sense. He moved his chin to rest atop Isabelle's head and chanced a look. His hand shook with the enormity of what he saw. Blood, coagulated and dark, smeared across his fingers. That was the thing about head wounds. No matter the severity of the wound, they always bled uncontrollably. Isabelle had long since been healed, but Alec's mind was elsewhere. Alicante had been overrun with demons. He nearly witnessed Magnus being struck down from behind, and suddenly the blood was not dingy and thick but bright and streaming like water. What would have happened if he hadn't been there? Would he have had to live the remainder of his miserable existence always questioning what could have been? Magnus need to be here. He'd scarce let the man out of his sight from this day onward.

The hours had passed by in a hazy blur. Alec was vaguely aware of the commotion around the room, being coaxed out the door, and then being told to change for the funeral. It all felt rushed, and completely unfair to all of them, Max especially. A shadowhunter's life was wrought with death. It was a burden that was easily accepted and was even considered admirable. But Max wasn't like the others being hastily burned and rejoiced upon a funeral pyre. He was an innocent child in every sense of the word. He hadn't even received his first rune. There was no glory or honor in his death just needless brutality and malice. Anger boiled through him not only for Sebastian, but with himself. He should have listened to Max. Perhaps this whole situation could have been avoided if he had just _listened_ to his young, precocious brother. Alec had to reconcile himself to the fact that it was too late for what ifs, and it was _hard_. In dealing with his grief, he abstractly noticed that he was compartmentalizing his emotions. His muddle brain chose to focus on the facts. His mind kept filing through all the things he should have noticed, things he should have done, and what needed to happen next. For now, that would have to do. He chanced a glance at his sister unsure if he was capable of handling what he saw there. Isabelle had since collected herself and was still as a weeping angel next to the licking flames and wispy smoke of the pyre. She hardly blinked even as the wind changed the direction of the smoke. It was almost as if she were punishing herself watching unflinchingly until all that remained of the youngest Lightwood was a pile of ash. Alec wished he had even half of her stout resolve. He deserved the punishment more than she did.

Soon after, the final wisps of smoke wafted off in the breeze, and the flames dwindle to embers. They had to be going. It was getting later, and a nephilim's duty did not cease. That would be the excuse they made, but whether that was the truth was unimportant. With a final look at the glowing embers, they said their last goodbyes to Max, and turned to go. The grass crinkled as they walked the short distance back to Alicante. The sound of it was deafening in the relative silence of the convoy as if to accentuate the knowledge that the world kept in motion whilst the family was frozen in time. It was maddening. Alec would be the first to admit that his family was very proud. Having been on the wrong side of confrontation in the past had made his parents more so in order to win over those in power. That also meant the will to save face outweighed even grief. They would not outwardly show their heartache so as not to be looked down upon, pitied. The outburst in the hall had been bad enough, if his mother's grasp on her blouse sleeve was any indication of how desperately she was holding it together. He was certain, if they made it through the next few days that things would get progressively harder at home. Appearances only ran skin deep, but the nuances in body language and word choice told a different story.

A white knuckled, fisted hand flashed in his periphery pulling Alec from his thoughts. Jace stonily marched next to Alec with squared shoulders and a determined clench to his jaw. His hand, Alec realized seconds later, was squeezed tightly around the figurine Jace had once given Max. The very one he had been holding when Sebastian killed him. And for the first time Alec could ever recall, he _pitied_ Jace. His complicated relationship with Clary hadn't been enough to invoke the degrading emotion. Of all people, Alec understood what it was like to pine after something one couldn't have, and he had _years_ of experience on the matter. No, what made him pity his adoptive brother was his inability to trust, and rely on anyone other than himself. Jace, despite his ability as a shadowhunter, got the shit end of a lot of deals. Not only was he raised, tortured, and manipulated by the most heartless shadowhunter in existence, he was kicked out of his home by the closest thing he had to a mother, and then was beaten and accused of things simply because he was Valentine's son. Alec also knew that Jace still hadn't forgiven himself for his near death experience with Abbadon, and now he carried the weight of this. But Jace never spoke of how he felt, not deeply anyway, and Alec could see what it was doing to him; carrying all those burdens and burying them deep within his barricaded heart to dwell upon, to remember and never release. How blind Alec had been in his infatuation. He had tried, in the past, to get Jace to speak about his feelings. Admittedly, at the time it had been for selfish reasons, but the principle of the matter still stood. Despite their camaraderie, Jace was still guarded, and until he found something worth reaching outside his walls for it would never change. That thought struck him, "Something worth reaching for." Alec had only one reason for this clarity he realized, as if the veil had been ripped away and burned. Magnus had given him more than he could possibly imagine: freedom. He was no longer oppressed by his thoughts or emotions because Magnus listened, challenged, understood, and encouraged. The urge to let his tears fall overwhelmed him in light of this realization, but still they would not fall. Alec had the inclination that they wouldn't fall until Magnus was in his arms again safe and sound. In short, he _really_ needed to get back from New York.

By the time Alec finished with his train of thought, they were in the house, and he watched with sterile detachment as every member of his family broke off in an opposite direction finding a way to grieve without being seen. It wouldn't be long before Jace made a break for it. If he knew anything about his _parabatai_ it was that he would be restless, and for once Alec was fine with that. He would let Jace deal with his burdens in the way he wanted to. Right now, he needed to make peace with the fact that he wouldn't be able to unload his own until his boyfriend returned. His boyfriend… the words produced a fluttering in his stomach concurrently with a deep seated anxiety. He had promised Magnus, before they parted, that he would introduce him to his parents, and thereby out himself to them. His hands itched for the stele and parchment on his desk. Surely Magnus would understand in light of the circumstances. Instead, he pulled at the hem of his mourning clothes. No, that wasn't fair. Magnus may have been willing to postpone the introductions while his parents lamented for Max, but if Alec was being honest with himself he was growing tired of hiding. He wanted to stop lying about where he went at night not only because he was terrible at lying, but because Magnus deserved better. This goes without saying that he had every intention of leaving on an escalated, more routine basis. He wracked his mind about how best to do this. Would it be better to call them together, or would it be better to catch them before everyone met in the Hall of Accords again? How would he present Magnus to them? "Hey Mom and Dad, this is Magnus. I know you know him already, but what you don't know is that I am dating him." That was a little too nonchalant for his taste. Alec crinkled his nose and continued debate his words. "Mom, Dad, I'm gay, and I've been secretly dating Magnus for several months, now. I wanted to introduce him to you." Alec groaned and pulled at the roots of his hair. There was no way he was going to overshare with his parents. They didn't need to know how long this had been going on unless they asked, and Alec had an inkling that they wouldn't be asking at least not about how long he had been _dating_ the warlock. It occurred to him, then, that there was no real point to trying to hash out the logistics, now. He had no idea when Magnus was returning, and without that crucial piece of knowledge any and all thought about how this would go down was subject to change. In the meantime, he desperately needed to rest, and though he knew it would be fitful, he needed to try.

Alec looked up into the dusky sky forcing a pause in his restless wandering. His morning had started out rough. Isabelle had woken him from a fitful slumber when she kicked something into their shared wall. After the adrenaline rush wore off, he would have happily tried to go back to bed with the aid of the after effects, but nothing was ever that easy. It appeared as though Izzy was experiencing the 'anger' portion of dealing with loss, and refused to come out of her room or let anyone in. An agitated part of him had wanted to call her a 'petulant child' but he knew better. It was speaking out of stress and it wouldn't be helpful. Simon had appeared shortly thereafter and by some miracle was quickly pulled into the room. Alec had never been so pleased to see the Daylighter. Besides, he understood where his sister was coming from. Isabelle was underage which meant she would not be participating in the upcoming battle, and she was just as angry as he about Max. He had to remain resolute in this thought. There _would_ be a battle. The clave would _not_ yield to the likes of Valentine. Anything less than that was unacceptable and _unjust._ His mind got lost in the imaginative realm of what could be. What hope would he have of surviving his confession if the clave crumbled under the weight of Valentine's threat? Alec shivered, forcing that thought away.

He had ducked in and out of the Hall of Accords a few times doing a quick once over to look for Magnus and then to check after his sister. It was dense with clusters of shadowhunters and downworlders making it hard to breathe with the sheer number of people and the apprehensive energy. Each time he entered, the space was smaller and the air was thicker but there was still no sign of Magnus. That realization was what sent him outside, again, to walk the streets of Alicante and try desperately to find calm, and control. There was no way he would be fit to go into battle if he remained unsettled, distracted. It made one reckless and unfocused which would open up more opportunities for demons to strike at vulnerabilities. His hand rubbed at his upper chest, unconsciously. He hadn't realized it when he woke, but since then he could feel the strain on his _parabatai_ rune. Jace had left the city; a feeling that only adding to his anxiety. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jace on his own, but the pull he felt at his absence was gnawing at him as if the bond that connected them was being pulled too tight and threatened to tear. A part of him wanted to be with his brother in arms, need to be there to have his back and avenge Max. However, he knew that Jace needed to do this on his own. In the brief confrontation they had with Sebastian before it was apparent that he was special like Jace, and as humbling as it was to admit Alec didn't stand a chance. Besides, he wanted to be here for Magnus's return. He only hoped it was sooner rather than later.

Alec was preparing to reconcile himself to the possibility that Magnus may not return tonight when he entered the Hall of Accords for the final time that night. What struck him first was the relative quiet the kind that spoke of attentiveness and pregnant pause. The stillness caused his head to swivel and take in the crowd. They were all focused on the pedestal in the center of the room, and once his eyes reached it he understood why. Clary stood, her face red with passion, as she argued with the congregated people. Alec knew he should have been listening to what she was saying, but his mind completely diverted on a different thought. Standing off to his left, must have been the illustrious Jocelyn Fray, or Fairchild if one preferred. He had never met the woman, but her striking resemblance to Clary was a dead giveaway. If she was here, Magnus had to be somewhere close by, too. His heart raced and his ears rung as he searched every face looking for the only one he wanted to see, but a rousing chorus of gasps drew his attention. When he looked, he was confused by what he saw even as the squeezing pain he had been feeling for the past two days let up. There on the pedestal, in the very spot Clary had been standing, was Magnus. His vision blurred, and his eyes burned with held back tears. The sheer relief of just seeing him again was almost overwhelming.

"Stephen!"

A figure darted through the crowd coming to stop before the pedestal. There was something familiar about the woman, but Alec couldn't identify what it was. What he could see, was that she was staring teary eyed and hopeful at Magnus. This, of course, didn't make any sense at all. Why was she calling the name "Stephen," and looking at Magnus like that? And then, he noticed it. She was not the only one calling out a presumably random name as they stared at his boyfriend. Something was obviously amiss. Alec watched and nearly leapt out of his skin when Magnus vanished into the much smaller form of Clary, and with it the constricting pain redoubled. His hand clenched fighting the urge to grasp at his chest. His nerves had never felt so frayed almost like a rope unraveling from a point of vulnerability. That was what he was, wasn't he, vulnerable? Without Magnus in front of him, his mind was swirling with all the possibilities of what could happen to him. His need to protect him outweighed any other thought in Alec's mind.

A few moments later, Alec had gained enough sense to listen to what was being said. Clary had been trying to explain her ability to make new runes. And then everything clicked. They must not have believed her. So, she showed them instead, but what had she done that made him see Magnus? "It's a binding rune." Her roughened voice broke through his thoughts. She went on to explain that she had a plan to fight Valentine. That she created a rune that allowed nephilim and downworlders to share abilities. It was not as binding as the _parabatai_ rune, but it allowed both parties to access to each other's ability, or at least the effects. Realistically, the downworlders were nervous. They knew what happened when shadowhunter runes were placed on them, and some of the more anxious ones started to cry foul saying that it was a nephil ploy to wipe them all out in order to appease Valentines demands. Things could easily get out of control. What didn't help matters was how quickly the shadowhunters reacted to the accusations saying it was inconceivable to think shadowhunters would ever degrade themselves by allowing themselves to be bound to a downworlder. This, of course, collapsed into a fit of uproar of flinging insults and wounding pride.

Alec cringed at it all, but mostly at the reminder of the way he used to think; the way he had been raised to think. It left a sour taste in his mouth to know that he once looked down on all these creatures as if they were weaker for their afflictions. Sure, vampirism and werewolves evolved from mundanes poisoned by demons, but shouldn't that have suggested strength? Where most had died, the genesis of these beings _survived_. They lived through the pain, the metamorphosis, until they were changed and even made stronger. By no means was that weakness. That didn't even brush the subject of warlocks. He remembered the tale Magnus had told them about his beginnings. Not once did he doubt the truth of the story. Magnus' eyes shone too bright and held too much emotion to be anything but true. Magnus, like anyone, had no control over who his parents were, and yet he was still persecuted for it. Centuries later, he was thriving; made stronger by his circumstances despite the pain. Alec hadn't told Magnus how much his story affected him. He could have transposed his fears about his situation onto Magnus's circumstances. It had been the whole reason why he never told his parents about his sexuality, but here was a man who endured the hate, the disgust even the pity, granted for different reasons, and became one of the most influential and phenomenal people he ever met. It made him want to follow his example and strive to be a better man. By the Angel he loved that warlock.

The crowd settled after some coaxing and agreed that they wanted to see an example before anyone risked their own life with the rune. Of course they did. Alec fought to not roll his eyes. One thing he remembered from his early life was being taught that the life of a shadowhunter was a selfless one. The nephilim were created to protect and go as far as to lay their lives down for the human race. Yet here they were, bickering ceaselessly as they decided who should be the sacrificial lambs. It seemed Jocelyn had faith in her daughter, though, and soon everyone stood in stunned silence as Luke endured the pain of being marked without consequence. The silence grew to a low din as people started to move. It seemed as though everyone was coming to the same conclusion. They could fight, together, and defend Alicante, and it was happening in a matter of hours. Suddenly, everyone was on the move, finding a partner and drawing runes. It sent Alec's eyes scanning the crowd again. He yearned to find Magnus. He wanted to see him, hold him, and cry about all the things that had happened in his absence and be comforted by his mere presence. He also wanted to ask him to be his partner before anyone else had the chance to. By no means was he letting that man slip through his fingers, again. He refused.

A tall man with spiked hair caught Alec's attention. The only thing that gave him pause about it being Magnus was the lack of change in clothes. Apparently, he really only went back to get Clary's mother. He didn't even stop off at the loft to, as Magnus would say, "Freshen up". His feet moved of their own accord guiding him through the commotion of the hall with surprising ease. He came to a stop in front of the warlock and blurted out unrepentantly, "Will you be my partner?"

Magnus' grin was bright and mischievous. "Your partner? That sounds almost like a poor excuse for a marriage proposal."

Alec's eyes burned and a groan crocked from deep within him. It was supposed to have been a laugh, but he heart hadn't been in it and it showed. The crinkle around Magnus' eyes disappeared as his smile set into a concerned line. "Of course, Alexander," his smooth voice rolled over Alec. "I wouldn't have any other. "

The multiple meanings of Magnus' words were not lost on Alec, and the flood gates were opening on his emotions. Magnus was here, safe, and was going to be his partner for the battle. Alec could ensure his safety and that his back was covered like any pair of warriors should. Alec closed the distance between them coming to stand mere inches from the warlock, and breathed. He inhaled deeply using the smell of sandalwood and spices to relax him. He hadn't realized how much affect simply having Magnus' smell in his nose had on him, comforting him and soothing his nerves. The stele in his hand shook less as he drew the rune first on his skin, and then on Magnus. Alec realized, belatedly, that he should have warned the warlock about the burning sensation, but as he looked up into Magnus's face, all he saw was open wonder as he observed his marking. The action stirred a yearning deep within Alec. He felt as though years had passed since the last time he had been in Magnus' presence. And like a man dying of thirst happening upon a body of water, he acted. His hands found purchase in the spikes of Magnus' hair, and he pulled bringing those soft lips down to his. The sound died in the room leaving an eerie silence, but Alec paid no mind. This is what he had wanted to do since the first time Magnus ignored his call. He pulled away for want of air panting softly as he disentangled himself from his warlock. Magnus' eyes were wide and his mouth hung open with unadulterated shock.

"Lilith, Alec. I said your parents not the whole damn clave!"

**So what do you all think? Hopefully it was done well enough. Unfortunately, I was playing therapist in the background to writing parts of this so my mind wasn't fully engaged. I don't know when I will have the next chapter posted, if you're even interested in it, but reviews always bolster the ego which makes writing faster. **** Just sayin'. Also, my copy of **_**City of Glass**_** is currently on loan, so I apologize if my timeline is off. I tried to cross reference and do research, but sometimes the websites are detailed enough for me. **


	2. Chapter 2

**So, this took me longer than I wish to admit to write. Not for lack of trying. Blame family, big girl responsibilities, and doggies insistently getting in my face for attention (true story, I kid you not). The good news is that I have already started the next chapter AND have ideas for a one shot and an AU. And I just received my "you got a new job, and you're awesome" present to myself which was a tablet. So, I will hopefully be doing some writing now at work, too! Also, I am still fighting Fanfiction on formatting. I didn't realize it when I posted it, but it jacked up my formatting for chapter 1. I will be more attentive to that in the future. Again, these are Cassandra Clare's characters. They've just planted themselves in my head and decided to take me for a ride. **

Chapter 2

Magnus was, in a word, flabbergasted which was a shame considering his boyfriend had just kissed him of his own volition in the middle of a crowded room. He had, of course, made a terrible assumption that Alec would need time to acclimate to public displays of affection conveniently forgetting that the young shadowhunter was one to not do things half-assed. It was a trait he admired, yet feared, about the boy because it was a brave but sometimes very stupid thing.

The weight of Alec's arms slipped from his shoulders drawing his eyes to the movement. They fell limply at his sides and Magnus, instantly missing their warmth, looked into his sweet, angelic face. What he saw caused a frown marred his fine features. Alec's eyes were bloodshot as if the boy hadn't slept in days, and upon closer inspection he realized they were also glassy as tears started to gather in the corners of his lids. What made matters worse was the obvious restraint. Every muscle in Alec's body was taut which did fine things to his figure, but spoke of other troubling matters. Despite Alec's will to hold back his tears, they still flowed. Magnus instantly regretted his surprise, not that he had any real choice over his reaction.

"Alexander, I didn't mean that. I am sorry." Magnus spoke softly as he wrapped his arms around his shadownhunter pulling him to his chest. It was true that he didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, but he had meant every word of his statement. As much as he wanted Alec to be open and comfortable with himself, he didn't want the boy to be burden with the potential repercussions. In his mind, it was simple enough. He'd tell his parents, the exiled leaders of the New York institute that were fighting fiercely to be accepted by their peers, he was gay and seeing his magnificent self. And that would be it. Their reaction would have been bowdlerized by the desire to keep it secret simply because it would nullify any of the work they had done to get back into the clave's good graces. Shadowhunters hardly traveled to the institute. It would have been easy enough to keep it quiet. Alec's head pressed against the hollow between his neck and shoulder causing Magnus to naturally rest his cheek against it. Now, he didn't know what would happen. He'd witnessed nephilim lose their marks for less than this, and needless to say they didn't fare the best afterward. Alexander didn't know anything other than the shadowhunter's life; it would rip him to pieces to not be able to protect his siblings.

"It's not that."

Magnus paused at the muffled sound. It was so soft and low he nearly hadn't heard it. Alec was still tense, and it was then that Magnus realized that he was trembling. Worry crossed his features as his hands started to smooth over the nephil's back. What would possibly have his shadowhunter this upset? He stood straighter, and resisted the urge to lash out at people still staring at them. All he wanted to do was take the pain away, but he couldn't. Instead, he focused on trying to discover the problem. His eyes scanned over their surroundings, and in doing so he spotted Isabelle. Even she seemed tired and worn, and then it hit him. No, no, nonononono, that blonde idiot didn't wind up and get himself killed. Fear settled in his stomach making it feel as though it was plummeting to the floor with the weight of it. Ripping _parabatai_ apart seemed to always leave the part that was left damaged beyond repair. Sure, his experience on the matter was limited, but he'd seen enough similarities in the relationship to not doubt what would befall Alec if Jace were ever stupid enough to die. His fingers curled into Alec's soft, silky hair pulling him closer still.

"I'm here." Magnus' voice was smooth and tranquil like the soft rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. What else could he do? Shadowhunters were drawing runes on downworlder's arms preparing for the battle to come. It was intense and stressful, and Magnus was the last person who should console his nephilim. Dying was a natural part of the human condition, something he knew little of. It was why he admired them, and if he was being truly honest with himself was jealous of. Their lack of longevity caused an innate desire to live loudly, passionately as if each breath would be their last. It drew him in like a moth to flame, hypnotized and drunk with envy. Especially Alexander, his fire had been dampened by years of hiding his true self like smoke billowing off wet kindling. It would take a great amount of risk, and determination for the flame to ignite, but Magnus knew that once it burned completely it would be of super nova proportions.

Alec steadied himself with the slightest squaring of his shoulders. "Max is dead." His voice was detached almost lifeless.

Tears silently streamed down his face, and Magnus couldn't help but marvel at the melancholy beauty of it. They were his only obvious giveaway of his distress, and it pained Magnus. It painted a deplorable image of a boy who'd spent too many nights silently fighting the emotions warring within him because admitting to them was exponentially worse. But above all else, the one thing that bothered Magnus was: who was Max? He instantly regretted verbalizing this question as Alec's tears redoubled and a look of self-loathing haunted his features for reasons Magnus couldn't comprehend. He had tried to ask the question delicately, but it hadn't helped and Magnus was forced to wrack his mind about a time when Alec had mentioned a "Max". Comic books and spectacles filled his mind for reasons he couldn't comprehend.

"My brother was," Alec paused mid-sentence as he ground his teeth in anger, "_murdered._ And it's my fault." Magnus took in his demeanor and words as the tingling sensation of awareness lifted the hairs on the back of his neck and numbed his limbs. If it had been a demon, Magnus did not think Alec would have chosen this word, or put such emphasis upon it. Wasn't Max like ten or something? Who would do such a terrible thing to one so young and innocent? Of course, Magnus could be reading too much into it, but Alexander had always spoken with such careful poise. He measured each worded and weighed its worth before uttering a single syllable. It was something about his shadowhunter that he was sure no one else had bothered to notice, and thereby made it something uniquely his.

Magnus brushed a thumb along Alec's sharp cheekbone –the salty smell of saline overtaking him- before cupping the back of his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I mourn your loss, Love."

The Lightwood family ring flashed dully as Alec's hand clenched his shoulder tightly, desperately. It was sure to leave a mark, but Magnus paid it no mind. He didn't give a damn about bruises. They seemed superficial and unimportant by comparison to the agony he laid witness to. "Magnus, I don't want them to see." Alec pleaded with wide eyes and shaking shoulders. Fear and desperation wove into Alec's carefully placed mask, and he realized just how close the boy was to breaking, completely.

Suddenly, Magnus regretted ever leaving. How long had Alec bared this burden alone? Lilith knew there would be no talk or companionship amongst the remaining family members. Stubborn Lightwoods, so incapable of asking for anything, especially help. His long arms draped over the shadowhunter's shoulders and pulled him flush against him. Alec's head crushed against his waiting chest as his hid his nephilim from the cruelty of the world; the soft caress of his breath the only indicator of Alec's frame of mind. It was rapid, shallow, and about two quick breaths away from hyperventilation.

It was becoming clear to Magnus that they needed to move. The weight of the stares, whether shocked or disgusted, was wreaking havoc on Alexander's mental stability. What he needed was silence and fresh air, but he refused to budge until he felt adequately prepared to take on the plethora of gawking onlookers. Having noticed the depth of his analysis, Magnus was acutely aware he was more focused, invigorated. It must have been the _alliance_ rune giving him the effects of Alec's _stamina_ rune. He hadn't realized how exhausted. This was turning out to be a quite curious new development. He wondered what else he could glean from Alec's abilities, and vice versa. But first, they needed to relocate.

Pressing a kiss to Alec's temple, Magnus brought his lips down to the other man's ear. "Alexander…" The shiver that traveled down his spine told Magnus he was listening. "I know you're tired, worn, and shaken, but I need you to do something for me. You're going to close your eyes, and focus on my voice. We are hours away from an all-out brawl the likes of which will affect not only your parents, sister, and Jace, but the very nature of our relationship. I need you by my side to make sure it doesn't come to that. Do you understand?"

Alec nodded softly causing his hair to stick to Magnus' chest, but his breathing was growing deep and slow. Good. "I am going to count to three, and when I am done you'll open your eyes, prepare to be seen, and we'll walk out of this hall with our heads held high. Yes?"

It took Alec a while to respond which caused Magnus to worry. He didn't think he was asking too much, but he wouldn't know if the shadowhunter didn't tell him. Finally, his subdued voice broke the silence, "What about my parents?" Magnus smoothed Alec's hair down as he tried to puzzle out his words. What did Alec's parents have to do with anything? ... Oh.

"Love, don't worry about that right now." And he meant it. As much as Magnus wanted their relationship to be stereotypically tied with a perfect bow, Alec introducing him as his boyfriend to his parents was by far the least important priority on the list. Right behind getting Jace's grimy, sticky paws off his boyfriend. He didn't care if they were _parabatai_, Jace could do with a little less Alec in his life. It wasn't going to kill him, hopefully.

"But…"

Fingers pressed to Alec's chewed, plump lips, and a wayward spark of magic passed between them. Magnus met his teary eyes with earnest admiration. "I love you." His hand moved to caress Alec's cheek fondly. "And knowing you love me too is all that I need." He left the rest unsaid. He was unsure of how the Lightwood parents would respond now that they didn't have a chance to keep their son's sexuality hidden, or with the loss of their other son. Too many nerves could make one react in a way they would regret. Right now, they just needed time. That went without saying that they were preparing to step into a clash where no one knew what to expect, but everyone anticipated a high casualty rate. There was no need to add more regrets to the mounting pile.

Alec fixed him with a watery smile that would have stolen his heart if it hadn't already been lost to the nephilim. "I do…" He stumbled over his words, as if it were the first time he was accepting this new found knowledge. "Love you. I can't believe it took me so long to realize that." Alec produced the softest of chuckles, and a sheepish look. "I understand, now, why you were upset with me."

"Yes, well, that was the past, and therefore is forgotten." Magnus fixed him with a discerning look. "Are you well?"

A vigorous nod was followed by dabbing of the eyes. "I will be. Focusing on what needs to be done helps."

Magnus' previous plan fell by the wayside as Alexander's lucidity returned. He was certain that his mourning was no were near finished, but one of the things that amazed him about the nephilim was the ability to set emotions aside in light of bigger, more pressing matters. If they lived through this, he was already decided that he'd rarely leave Alec's side. He didn't want his shadowhunter baring the pain of this loss alone, and the knowledge that he could openly comfort him like that lightened his heart. This was, of course, hoping that there were no ramifications of outing himself in front of consul and clave. Either way, they'd deal with it. The future was a muddled mess that was incapable of being interpreted in its entirety. The only thing he was certain of was that he wasn't going to lose the boy now that he had him.

"Speaking of things that need to be done…" Magnus allowed a lascivious undercurrent to flow through his words. It had the intended effect of lightening Alec's mood as he rolled his eyes derisively. "I've found myself quite taken with our new bond, and am incredibly curious as to what all it can do." He laced the fingers of their bound hands together and pulled them to rest against his chest so that Alec may see the blacken skin.

The thumb of Alec's hand traced over the burned skin, eliciting a tremor through Magnus' being. Despite everything that had happened, it still amazed him how easily Alec was showing affection, and how different he seemed. Something else must have happened since he came to Idris. There was no pause or question to any of his actions as if there was no question or doubt about his emotions. He was sound, resolute. "I feel… something. It must be your magic, but I don't know what to do with it or even how to access it."

Magnus nodded, "I feel the effects of some of your runes, but I think we should be able do to more." Alec seemed to agree with this, and Magnus found it adorable how his nose wrinkled with thought. "Do you know some place where we could go to practice for what little time we have left?" Mostly, Magnus would have just enjoyed the time alone with Alec. It had been hard to ignore him all those weeks, but he didn't want to confess just how challenging it had been. Things needed to change, and sometimes it takes drastic measures. Magnus chose to ignore the conscious thought that Alec still didn't seem to grasp what had happened between the two of them until Magnus's little rant in the streets of Alicante. His thoughts faltered. Alec had been selfish, not him.

"I know just the place." The next thing he knew, Magnus was being pulled along by their interconnected hands, weaving to and fro between groups of people. It amazed him how single minded Alec could be. Was it not only moments ago where Alec was hiding away from their collective gazes? Now it was as if they weren't there. Magnus flashed a smile here and there and dropped a wink or two. There was something surreal about the moment, almost something out of the movies. The two lovers running away from the world and all their problems caught up in each other. How Magnus wanted that fantasy to be true.

Soon the air was crisp and clean instead of thick and humid. The sun had fallen to the cusp of the horizon. It won't be long until they are called to fight, but he pushed all that out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the feel of Alec's rough and calloused hand in his, and the light almost silent step of his feet. Where was he taking them? After several more quick turns, Magnus was sure he was lost, but he needn't worry. A building loomed ahead, silent and still. It looked like a school. The halls were wide and filled with doors, but they passed every one until they came upon a set of large, solid oaken ones. Magnus pouted as Alec pulled away from his grasp going to open the entry into Lilith knows what.

The hinges groaned and creaked at the forceful movement. He would have almost assumed that the doors hadn't been opened in ages, but he was beginning to think that was not the case due to what he saw. The floor was covered in mats with ropes hanging intermittently around the room. He followed those ropes until he saw the rafters, more than the room really needed to provide stability. Alec had crossed the expanse to a cabinet on the opposite side of the room, and opened it. The puzzle snapped together and a salacious smirk spread across his face.

"My, Alexander, I am pleased to see you've got some spunk and kink in you. Now if we could just translate that to the bedroom, we'd be perfect."

**Well, is it more interesting, yet? I promise the heart of the story starts in the next chapter. Reviews make me write faster, and they make me smile. I also post the links to the chapters on tumblr. So if you prefer that method, my tumblr can be found on my profile. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't know what happened here. Magnus kind of took over even though it's not from his point of view. It would be an understatement to say that man takes liberties, but that is why I love him. I don't own these characters, nor do I own Star Wars. Cassie Clare and Disney do. (That sounds so weird to say. Disney owns Star Wars.) I was in a hurry to post this, so some of the editing may not be great at the end of the chapter. I tried to catch everything, but eyes have a tricky way of seeing what they want to. Yay, cognitive psychology. **

Chapter 3

A flush crept up Alec's cheeks at Magnus' words. He was pleased to have at least some cursory knowledge of the terminology so he didn't look like a complete idiot. However, up until this point he had thought Izzy was being insufferable. "There is nothing… kinky about a training room, Magnus." He busied himself with pulling weaponry from the cabinet as he tried to drain the heat from his face.

"You only think that because you've never had _fun_ in one, Sweetheart." Magnus' words were spoken with such a perfunctory air that Alec instantly felt like he'd been kicked in the gut.

"_Have you_?" Two words could never be spoken with more alarm. Alec didn't know what to think. It would have been foolish, laughable even, to think that Magnus had been celibate all these years. He was under no illusions about his sexual prowess, but somehow it felt dirty to think he wasn't the first shadowhunter Magnus had been with. Perhaps dirty wasn't the best word for it; jealous may have been better. Alec knew he couldn't compete with vampires or werewolves. Their physical attributes were different, but another shadowhunter would have his abilities and possibly be better with them. Who was Alec kidding? There was no probably about it. He had lack of experience in his corner, and confidence issues. He was self-aware enough to know as much.

Magnus chuckled. _Chuckled_. "Of course not, Love. I've been waiting for you." Alec's eye twitched. Leave it to Magnus to bring up another sore point in their relationship like it was nothing. Alec had tried, admittedly clumsily, to initiate sex on multiple occasions, but every time Magnus turned him down kissing his nose as if the rejection meant nothing. Well it did mean something to him. How was he supposed to gain any confidence if he was never given the opportunity? "Do I spy jealousy in the set of your shoulders, _Alexander_?"

Alec rolled the muscles in his neck and shoulders to stave off the shudder Magnus had been trying for. The voice had come from right behind him. Either he was carried away in his thoughts, or Magnus had achieved the effects of his _soundless _rune. It was probably both which only angered him more. He could feel Magnus' magic boiling in his veins like electricity bouncy about looking for a way to discharge itself, or a fire waiting to ignite until every cell burst. Yet, he couldn't _do_ anything with it. He had made several attempts on the way here; opening doors, producing sparks from his fingers, but he couldn't do it. "No, I'm not jealous."

"You're lying." Arm's wrapped around his middle, and lips pressed against his neck. "Believe me when I say that you have nothing to be jealous of, Alec."

Alec broke from Magnus' hold as he selected a claymore and a thigh sheath full of stilettos. "No, I _was_ jealous. Now I am just angry." Once he moved to the other side of the room, he started to strap the sheath to himself. He knew Magnus would have a rebuttal, but he didn't want to hear it and continued to talk. "Choose a weapon. You should be able to touch any weapon in that cupboard. I am not going to risk finding out what will happen if you touch a seraph blade. Just because we are bound with the _alliance_ rune doesn't mean you can suddenly activate and withstand angel blades." He gave a final tug to the leather straps before he stood and fixed his boyfriend with a fierce look.

Magnus met his gaze with a quizzical one of his own. "What have I said or done to anger you, Dearest?" Alec had to look away at the open curiosity and confusion painted on Magnus' face. Damn that man and his ability to disarm any situation. Alec _wanted_ to be angry. Anger was easier than admitting to his own inadequacies.

Pulling out his stele and stripping off his jacket, Alec growled, "I don't want to talk about it." It was time to see just how much Magnus gained from his runes. Besides, the burning sensation distracted him.

"_Alexander, please._" Alec sighed heavily at the pleading in his voice. "I don't wish to hurt you, but I can't stop it from happening unless you tell me what it is I have done." Alec ground his teeth as he silently cursed himself. One of his greatest failings was his inability to say 'no'.

Exasperation radiated in his every move and word. "You tease and jest about sex. Yet, when I've tried to instigate it, you always stop me. Do you grasp how frustrating that is? Being told that I have nothing to fear isn't enough, Magnus, because clearly I do." His cheeks and neck burned bright with humiliation. "It goes without saying that I also find myself envious. You seem to be adapting to this bond easily, and unlike you I am not. I've tried to access your magic, and I just _can't_."

"… Alec-"

"I don't want to hear it, Magnus." Alec scowled reflexively. "I am not a child that needs to be pacified." When he looked up, he was met with a tender smile.

"You know what one of the things I admire about you the most is, Alexander?" Magnus received a negative response, and soon he continued. "You are completely and utterly transparent. You don't hide your feelings, and when put in the proper situation you say exactly what you think. I know I've said this to you before, but I never told you how much I appreciate it. Having said that, I wish to pose a question to you: If I had suggested, in any way, that you did not have my complete attention, would you have wanted to have sex with me?"

Alec felt his rage subside, but his embarrassment persisted. "No."

Fingers pressed against the bone of his jaw, and soon Alec felt his head lifting to meet Magnus' eyes. "You have no idea how much that pleases me, but I hope that also makes you understand my position. I wanted to have all of you, not just the piece you were willing to give me at the time. I've done casual sex before, but not with someone I feel for so strongly." Lips pressed against his and he gasped in surprise invariably inviting Magnus to explore his mouth. It was always an exhilarating experience, kissing Magnus. The slightest peck had the ability of leaving him lightheaded and impassioned as electricity tingled through his being, but he was not one to be taken so easily. Instead, he pressed back brushing his tongue against Magnus' eliciting a soft moan from the other man. His lungs were bursting. He needed air, but the last thing he wanted to do was to be parted from his boyfriend. Soon, Magnus pulled away, pressing light kisses to his face before pressing their foreheads together. "I am not an expert on Clarissa's rune, but from what I've experienced thus far, Alexander, you needn't worry. I have been able to take advantage of the symbols you burn into your skin, but the things that are innately you I have yet to grasp. I will need guidance to connect with your muscle memory, fighting styles, even your strategy. I assure you we're on equal footing. Do you believe me?"

Alec buried his face in Magnus' shoulder, his face hot and flushed. "Yes, I believe you."

Soft laughter murmured in his hair and Magus' chest shook with it. "As delightfully adorable I find you at this moment, time is wasting and I very much want to be _instructed_ by my shadowhunter… Ow!" Magnus, startled, pulled away from Alec with bewildered eyes before grabbing at his collar bone through the moistened patch of his shirt. He deserved it. Leave it to Magnus to make light of a serious conversation and snap the shadowhunter out of his discomfited wallowing. Alec watched, and waited, as the surprise dissipated into a wicked smirk. "Alexander, did you just bite me?"

Something woke within Alec that he couldn't quite grasp enough to name; a burning that made him stand straighter, square his shoulders, and _smirk_ provokingly. "The first thing _Jace_ ever taught me: _anything_ can be used as a weapon. Remember that." Alec delighted in witnessing the change in Magnus' features as the lewd smirk contorted into a vicious snarl. What on earth was happening to him? Did he just _taunt_ his boyfriend? Excitement rushed through him, inducing an adrenaline rush. "Choose your weapon." Magnus made move to the weapons cabinet, but Alec was determined to not make it that easy. Fingers fitted around the handle of a stiletto; pull, flip, aim, and throw. Milliseconds passed and the knife burrowed deep into the wood where Magnus' foot had been. If the look that Magnus was giving him was any indication, Alec would say he'd comprehended Alec's _foresight_ rune well enough. Excellent, but that wouldn't prepare him for the onslaught to come. He let three more knives fly testing Magnus ability until he blocked a dagger with a board he wrenched from the floor.

"Lilith, Alec! You're more acrimonious than Chairman Meow after a bath!"

Alec laughed envisioning the sight of the diminutive cat beyond a huff. The image was as adorable as it was frightening. After he found his breath, he caught the warlock's eye. He grinned, amused at his inexperience. "Magnus, do you even comprehend what you've just done?" Magnus' eyes were blank and confused which only made Alec laugh again. "You just _ripped_ a plank out of the floor with your hands. Do you realize how much strength that takes?" The board clattered to the ground loudly as a result of Magnus' surprise.

"It didn't even cross my mind to magic it away." His voice was awed as he plucked the knife from the wood.

Alec extended his hand for Magnus to take. "You must have been burrowed in deep if you were reacting on my instinct instead of your own." The room fell into a comfortable silence as Magnus regarded the blade in his hand, and Alec was enraptured with the critical look in the warlock's eye. It was one of his favorite past times to watch Magnus decipher knew things. He got this gleam in his eye that spoke of mysteries. As if he'd seen beyond the object and found its deepest meaning, but what he discovered was so profound that he couldn't speak of even if he tried. He couldn't help but wonder what the warlock was seeing now. A hand came up to catch his before Magnus even bothered to look up, a childlike enthusiasm in his features. Alec beamed and pulled Magnus up with ease before being tackled back to the ground.

Quick feverish kisses pressed against his lips, jaw, and neck until Magnus finally stopped his attack. "Never in my long life have I ever wanted to know the methods of a shadowhunter, but that was…" Pearly white teeth flash with blinding brilliance before Magus gave Alec another, less chaste, kiss. "Riveting. I am beginning to grasp what goes on in your mind when you fight. It's like nothing I would have imagined."

Breath escaped Alec. Not because Magnus was particularly heavy, or had knocked the wind out of him. No, Alec couldn't breathe simply because Magnus was laying flush against him saying those earnest words, and the sheer proximity was getting to him. All the talk and confessions had his addled brain off on things it shouldn't be. They had a battle with _demons_ and Magnus was only scratching the surface of the techniques he needed to survive standing next to a shadowhunter. "Then perhaps we should expand your education to weaponry?" This time, Alec did lose his breath because of Magnus's weight. In his exuberance, he vaulted off the nephilim to get to the weapons cabinet, and in doing so landed right in Alec's diaphragm. "By the angel, Magnus. Do be careful."

Magnus had the audacity to look sheepish as he selected a sabre from the table. "I'm excitable. What can I say?"

"'I'm sorry' would be a start."

"I can kiss it and make it better, if you'd prefer, Love." Alec rolled his eyes and moved to stand. If they got started snogging again, Alec wasn't certain he'd have the willpower to stop. So he did the most reasonable thing; moved to the opposite end of the room and collected his claymore. He swung it back and forth adapting to the weight of it in his hands. It seemed balanced enough. He'd had to adjust his throw in order to accommodate the stilettos. They were a tad heavy in the handle, nuances. The throwing knife was not his weapon of choice, but he didn't exactly feel comfortable shooting arrows at his boyfriends head. Magnus produced moments of irritation, but nothing was befitting that sort of retaliation.

"No. I think that would be counterproductive. Shall we move on?" Magnus nodded emphatically, and Alec couldn't help but smile and let his anger and physical pain go. He was just so _eager_, and Alec couldn't recall the last time someone waited on baited breath for his instruction. Max had been enthralled with Jace, and Alec was only now beginning to comprehend how much that wounded him. Jace was certainly a master at the art of killing demons, but had by proxy usurped Alec's role as idolized older brother. It had never bothered him before, but now that Max was gone… He shook his head lightly before traveling too far down that dangerous path. Instead, he needed to focus on the pupil that did want to learn from him. Only then did he realize he didn't know where to begin. He voiced as much. "I don't know how to do this. There is little to no time to thoroughly train you."

Magnus paused in his reckless swinging and took on an inquisitive expression. "As I understand it thus far, the bound allows me to draw from your experience. So mayhap you don't actually have to train me."

A frown marred Alec's features as he tried to understand where Magnus was going. Of course he needed to train him. He wasn't going to just let his warlock go into battle without once testing his competency with a blade. Sure, Magnus could rely on his magic mostly, but at some point his magic would drain until it was utterly spent. What would happen if that was in the middle of the confrontation. Alec couldn't take that risk. "I am afraid I don't understand, Magnus. I'm not going to let you go out there swinging that thing as you are now. You'll get us both killed."

Magnus fixed him with a reproachful look. "My swing is not _that_ bad, _Alexander_." He let the sabre fall to his side, and Alec found himself grateful he had the good sense hold the sharpened edge away from his person. "I only meant that the knowledge is already there. I just have to get comfortable and practiced with accessing it."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Throwing your little knives at me seemed to work just fine; if a little unnerving. What if we simply sparred? Not only would I get to appreciate your exceptional form, but it would give me practice using your weaponry defensively which is how I will likely use it in truth." The thought had vaguely crossed Alec's mind at one point, but this whole arrangement was clouding his reasoning skills. Magnus was a novice, but yet he wasn't. It was almost as if he had accidentally taken a swig of some brightly colored fairie concoction. Magnus had no practiced skill with a sword, but under the right conditions he could pull on Alec's experience. It was a reasonable suggestion, if a little unusual.

He ruminated over the idea a bit longer before nodding warily. "We will spar, but if it becomes apparent that it isn't working we will search out another method." It was prudent to set limits. Not because Magnus needed it –at least in this sort of situation – but because Alec needed to re-affirm in his mind that time was not a luxury they had. He couldn't come at the problem single-mindedly and beat against the proverbial blockade until it was beat into submission. No, if sparring didn't work, they'd have to find a way around the obstruction by different means.

"Yes, Master Kenobi." Magnus responded in what could only be described as a satirical manner.

"What?"

"Never mind. Shall we?" It took Alec a moment relinquish his curiosity and confusion as he eventually decided it was some mundane reference he would never understand. Magnus had a tendency to forget that shadowhunters were apt to be ignorant of mundane culture except, perhaps, things they could use. Cell phones really were a remarkable technology. It made conversation difficult, at times, but Alec discovered early on that if Magnus thought it absolutely necessary Alec understand a reference he'd insure the shadowhunter would. (He was still reading through the stack of comic books Magnus had dumped in his lap after discovering his dislike of spiders. The man had exclaimed at the top of his lungs, "There would be no Spiderman without spiders! Appreciate the spider, Alec." And then demanded he read at once.) The reference was unimportant, and soon set to the wayside. He raised his claymore, and took a few experimental swipes at his boyfriend testing his reaction. He dodged the first, blocked the second, and parried the third. They could do this. Grinning like a madman, Alec rolled his shoulders, steadied his grip, and came at Magnus unrepentantly. It had the intended effect. Magnus, to the most part, was defending his person and pulling from Alec's repertoire of moves. The only problem Alec found was that Magnus had a habit of leaving the trunk of his body exposed. On several occasions, Alec jabbed him with the hilt of his sword in hopes that it would help the warlock learn to keep it covered, but with each new opening Alec found himself getting more irritated.

"On your feet, Mag. Once you stop moving, you're dead."

A groan resonated through the empty expanse of the room as Magnus rolled over onto his other side. "Then put a fork in me and call me done." The rational part of Alec's mind told him it was a joke. Comic relief as Magnus licked his wounds. However, the irrational portion of Alec's brain overpowered logic and the reasonable, levelheaded, shadowhunter lost it. He let out an inhuman roar and drove his sword in the floor slicing a hole through Magnus's shirt and effectively pinning him where he lay.

"Don't you _dare_ give up on me like that." He seethed as he crouched over the other man. Under any other circumstance Magnus would have generated some sort of innuendo, but his green cat eyes were wide and fearful looking at Alec as if he did not know the shadowhunter. "If you give up this easily here _practicing_, how can I have any faith to turn my back to you out there? I _will not_ lose you, and we're twice as likely to go down in a fight if I can't trust you to keep yourself alive."

Magnus' throat bobbed as he fought for words. Somewhere in Alec's head, he was trying to convince himself to calm down, but his nerves were far too frayed. All they had needed was the slightest spark, and the whole of them went up in flames. The only thing keeping him from cracking completely was the feel of Magnus' beating heart beneath his roughened palm thrumming fast and violent. Smooth skin brushed across the backs of his hand causing Alec to nearly jump out of his skin. Magnus forewent using Alec's vulnerability against him, and simply wrapped his hands over the one on his chest. Alec's ears were ringing, and he could feel himself collapsing against Magnus' chest inhaling that smell that was his and his alone. With each passing breath the anger drained from him, and the magnitude of what he'd done became apparent. "I'm sorry, Magnus. I over-reacted."

"No, you didn't. You're just worried. With good reason, I might add. I am too. I don't want anything to happen to you as much as you don't want anything to happen to me." Alec felt soft lips press against his temple, and arms wrap around his middle. It was a simplistic action, but it made Alec feel safe. "How about I pick on you for a while?" The ease with which Magnus forgave and forgot nearly overwhelmed him. So, he did the only thing he could. In one smooth motion, he stood, held out his hand for Magnus to take, and pulled the man up.

"Try to teach me magic."

Magnus surreptitiously dusted himself off. "I will, but only under one condition." Alec had a nervous feeling burrow deep within him as the grin on Magnus' face turned devilish. Was he about to receive payback for his actions? "Master Yoda, you must call me." Alec's expression became blank as he first mulled over what Magnus had said – the sentence structure was unusual and off putting, unlike anything he had heard before – and then as he tried to comprehend it. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

**How about it? Is it terrible, good? Anyone have any guess about what Alec's going to learn next chapter? The obvious answer to that question is magic, yes, but I am curious as to what you all think up. It's already in the works, but I make no promises as to when it will be posted. Now I am off to write a review I promised someone…**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I had you all fooled, didn't I? After posting so quickly last time, you all thought the next chapter was right behind it. Well, if I didn't have you fooled, I had myself fooled. Alas, I have not started the next chapter yet. I am fighting off an illness (which admittedly is the only reason why you are getting this yet tonight), and we are preparing to go on vacation. I do intend to write on vacation, but the interim I am not so certain. The last third of this was written while feverish, so if it is a little choppy or weird, I'm sorry. As always, these guys belong to Cassandra Clare. I make two very vague references to other media. If you spot them, we'll talk about what you get. **

Chapter 4

It never ceased to amaze Magnus, how expressive Alexander could be. The scrunch of distaste of his nose, the light of amusement in his eyes, or the way his brows furrowed in confusion when he tried to puzzle something out. That was one of Magnus' favorite looks (Barring, of course, the look of complete love and adoration that was becoming surprisingly common on his features.), and the one he carried now. Alexander was something, he believed, most shadowhunters incapable of: profound. It occurred to him first, when Alec made comment about his _parabatai_ one night when they had been at his apartment. Magnus' first reaction was to inwardly groan in frustration as he pretended to listen to the boy, until he caught the concentrated look in Alec's face that spoke only of churning over facts and trying to piece them together. "For all of Jace's ability, he doesn't understand what he does to the people he surrounds himself with."

Magnus could remember, as if it had happened yesterday, giving the boy a quizzical look. How could he not? It was the first relatively negative thing he had ever heard Alec speak of the boy, and he nearly launched from his place on the couch to prance about the room. However, he knew that the boisterous action would drive the nephilim back into his shell. So, instead he had only asked, "What do you mean, Alexander?"

Even then, Magnus was aware of the response he garnered when he spoke the shadowhunter's name. He delighted in the way the hairs on Alec's arm stood straight and the goose flesh that broke out over his skin. It suggested just how taken the boy was with him which was something he was admittedly thankful for considering his growing attachment. However, Magnus was careful not to comment on this for two very important reasons. If he had, the boy would refuse to remove his sweaters in his presence and would shy away bashfully. Magnus didn't want to be deprived of the beautiful sight of his corded muscles or the marks upon his skin. More importantly, though, the reaction provided Magnus with insight. If Alec was particularly caught up in whatever he was speaking on, the name had little effect.

He had watched, critically, as he posed his question and was more than mildly pleased when Alec rubbed his calloused hands over the backs of his arms. "He entices devotion and camaraderie, and yet he is so far removed that he doesn't see the damage he can induce in the wake of it." Magnus had lifted a carefully sculpted brow at the shadowhunter by that point. He didn't need to hear what sort of feelings _Jace_ induced in his _parabatai_, and if he was being truthful the whole explanation unnerved him, too. "I am not just referring to myself, Magnus." The statement had had his attention immediately especially with the amount of annoyance Alec managed to lace into his name. "Clary, Izzy, even Max. It doesn't have to be some romantic notion." Alec had looked off unseeingly, and Magnus was enraptured with the sagely appearance the nephilim suddenly had. "There will come a day when his ignorance will be his downfall." A muscle twitched in his cheek. "I only hope it won't be beyond repair." An unwanted pit developed in Magnus's stomach for reasons he didn't understand, and the rest of the night had been spent on more pleasant topics in an act of impenitent avoidance.

"Magnus…" Magnus shook out of his reverie to meet those startling blue eyes that swept him up in their current before he had any opportunity to swim away. "Are you going to teach me magic or not?"

"Yes, of course." He fixed Alec with a lecherous look. "I was distracted by a beauty unsurpassed." He chuckled as the nephil rolled his eyes and fought the blush that crept up the side of his neck; easily diverted with the attention. "The first rule to learning magic is to start off small." With a flourish, he snapped his fingers causing a blue flame to erupt off of them. It lapped at his fingers lazily as he turned his gaze on the shadowhunter. "You try."

Alec inhaled deeply and looked down at his hands, hands that Magnus could get lost in for hours. A look of extreme focus overtook his chiseled features before a loud snap echoed through the expansive room. He honestly didn't know what he expected. The first time he had used his magic had been completely reactionary, and this whole arrangement was new and completely uncharted. A part of his brain was still reeling over the knowledge that not moments ago, he had been sparing like a shadowhunter pulling from the vast catalog of Alexander's memories and instincts. It was, in short, surreal. He still felt the soft give of the mats under his feet as he moved, and the worn leather of the pummel of his sword. It had been centuries since he had last touched a sabre. The memory was, after all, the reason why he had chosen the weapon in the first place. However, he didn't recall the way his skin turned red with irritation, or how the weight of the weapon pulled at his palms to the point that blisters were beginning to form. He rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully feeling the uneven, sore bumps. These were things that one simply did not heal because it was better not to. One day, the blisters would cease and in place of them would be leathery skin that was accustomed to the weapon and its purpose. He couldn't help but appreciate the amount of devotion it took to work with such instruments until one built up enough callouses to avoid such annoyance like Alexander had. Up until this point, he would have turned his nose up at the opportunity to experience that sensation, but this was his Alexander and he had a deep set fascination with wanting to understand every facet of the boy.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised it wasn't that easy." It was meant to placate the shadowhunter, but Alec produced a dramatic huff anyway. Though, Magnus had to admit the nephilim's latent dramatics were rather adorable. "Look on the bright side, I get to educate you. I know I am excited." He smirked at the shadowhunter lewdly in hopes of lightening the mood. It was understood that Alec was frazzled, but his bipolarity was unsettling the warlock. It made it difficult to anticipate his reaction, and Magnus was touchy about what he did and did not like to predict. For example, unexpected gifts were a nice touch, or even a passionate kiss in a _crowded room_. But not knowing if his shirt was going to suffer Alexander's wrath did not fit into this spectrum. This went without saying that Alexander's inability to control his emotions, for someone who had spent _years_ carefully crafting a hardened emotionless exterior, was heartbreaking.

A stifling silence engulfed them laden with so much emotion Magnus could hardly breathe. It was almost like being back in the suffocating Peruvian jungle with trails of sweat trickling down his spine. He turned his gaze on the shadowhunter and met an amalgam of frustration and vulnerability swirling in bottomless blue depths. Magnus sighed, "I prefer it this way, Alexander. Those who don't understand magic's capabilities tend to get into serious trouble with it. I know that you are not completely unaware of its ability, but you've never tried to wield it before. This way, I can watch and guide your progress. It just also means I have to think about this a little harder."

Fabric rustled as Alec gestured hopelessly with his hands. "What do I need to do?" That was the question of the moment, wasn't it? Magic had been such an innate part of Magnus' being for centuries that he was having difficulty even beginning to describe how to use it. It was just always there which, admittedly, made Alec's earlier assertions that much more interesting. What did magic feel like? He was completely desensitized to the sensation, and only felt an emptiness when he was particularly drained. Its existence in his being was his definition of normal much like the way Alec felt to his shadowhunting abilities. Perhaps that unseemly commonality would be helpful.

"Magic is to me, what demon hunting is to you." An epiphany struck him as those words were loosed from his lips, and Magnus was suddenly brimming with excited energy. "Try treating it as an extension to your nephilim abilities." Alec gave him a dull, bland look and Magnus found himself fighting for words to better explain himself. "When you fight a demon, Alexander, how much time do you spend actually thinking about what you're doing?" Magnus _hated_ discussing demon hunting with Alec. It was something he would never admit to the shadowhunter – until, perhaps, he could hold a conversation on other more interesting topics. Hunting demons and eradicating them was Alec's profession, but every time Magnus witnessed him slug his dirty, exhausted body through the apartment it nearly had him undone. The filthy stench of refuse and brimstone wafted in his nose causing unwanted memories to flit through his mind, and the inky blackness of the demon ichor smeared over Alec's angelic features produced a frightful image of a man being tarred and feathered (the children of the angels were still backward enough that Magnus wouldn't put it past them to use such barbaric punishments). All in all, it was a constant reminder of Alexander's mortality and just how carefully balanced he was on the precipice of life and death. More selfishly though, talking demons with Alec meant talking about blondie and Magnus preferred to talk of dark haired boys with crystalline eyes and alabaster skin.

"The demon has to be identified, and if we don't know its weaknesses then we must discover them." Magnus fought not to roll his eyes. Alec, as per his usual, was over complicating the question. Under other circumstance Magnus would have found it endearing but it was inhibiting his ability to teach the shadowhunter, and they only had so much time left.

Magnus struggled to keep his voice even. "What if it is a demon you see frequently? How much of what you do is muscle memory and instincts rather than thought?" It was really an elegant solution. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. What better way was there to master something new than to base it off of something tried and true? In retrospect, that had been when he did with the shadowhunter powers. Those few experimental swipes had been all he needed to give up his higher brain function and allow him to be subject to his instincts. The body always knows how to respond even when the mind doesn't. In that moment, he had faded away, and in place of his magic he had found something different. It was difficult to describe the sensation except that instead of needing to keep his enemy at bay there was a visceral need to bring him in closer; to lure him in and strike at a sweet spot when he provided it. Alec hadn't provided him the opportunity making Magnus more in awe of him. How could the boy ever doubt his capabilities?

"I suppose the majority of it, but how is this supposed to help me learn magic?"

Magnus bounced on the balls of his feet causing the matting to groan and give way beneath him. "It has everything to do with teaching you magic, darling." He crossed the short distance between them and smoothed his hands down Alec's shoulders. They were broad and rigid, but seemed to relax infinitesimally beneath his hold. "Close your eyes," he whispered against Alec's ear and withstood the urge to nip at the lobe of it. Those shoulders expanded and fell as Alec produced a tired, irritated sigh before doing as he was told. His fingers trailed down Alec's arm to where the black markings they shared were. It invoked a shiver from the shadowhunter that pleased him greatly, but was equally distracting. Yes, it was his own fault, but he couldn't resist the urge to feel those sinuous lines. "This rune gives you my magic, but don't think of it that way. Think of it as a rune that allows you to produce fire from your fingers and nothing more. Treat it like your strength rune, or a fire rune. How would you use those to yield the results you desire?"

"That's just it, Magnus; I don't have to do anything. They just _happen_."

Magnus couldn't help but smile. "They do." He shook Alec's shoulders in his exuberance. Alec was so close to understanding he was having difficulty containing his glee. "But the difference is that you believe they will do what they are meant to do. All you have to do is expect fire to burst from your fingers."

Dust filtered through the air dotting the very last rays of sunshine as Alec mulled over his words. Their time was dwindling, and as much as Magnus had been putting off the knowledge of what came next he couldn't help but acknowledge that battle was nigh. It was a compelling thought. Magnus had encountered human scuffles throughout the years, but he usually tried his best to avoid becoming a part of them. He had no qualms with helping on the periphery, but he always stopped short at full-fledged involvement. It didn't matter how pretty the face was. Yet here he was preparing to not only be involved, but to be on the front line. He could have run; he'd done it before. What was Alexander doing to him? When the shadowhunter had asked him to be his partner in the battle, Magnus didn't even pause in his response. There was never a doubt in his mind that he wanted to be here to help Alexander through this to keep him safe and close.

A snap cut through the silence and pulled Magnus from his reverie. "By the angel…" Alec trailed off as he looked at his hand in fascination. Magnus followed the line of his gaze and couldn't but be confused by what he saw. It was just Alec's hand. There was no flame to speak of; not even a hint of blue. With a quirked brow he fixed Alec with a peculiar look. "It was there; for the briefest second, but it was there." Alec turned a blinding smile on him proud and happy like a child learning to ride his first bike.

Magnus grinned. "And you doubted my methods." A chuckle rumbled deep within his being as Alec blushed and emitted soft apology through a smile. It was a beautiful smile; one that captured all of Magnus' attention no matter what else was happening around them. He pressed a chaste kiss to Alec's cheek before pulling away to stand before the shadowhunter giving him a front row seat. "Have another try, then." He watched with fascination as Alec's brows knotted in concentration staring at his hand as if it held all the answers he'd ever need. Thumb to middle finger the roughened pads pressed together, tight, and pull. Blue flame rolled off his fingers like water lapping at a shoreline, and Magnus couldn't help but notice how brilliant they looked against his fair skin or how they seemed to make his eyes glow fiercely in the darkening room. A thread that inconspicuously tightened around his heart released as a pleasant warmth engulfed him. "I'm proud of you, Alexander."

"I've only just made a flame." Of course Alexander would brush off the compliment. It was one of the things that was infuriatingly endearing about the boy. The nephilim was incapable of receiving praise. Magnus could see it in his mind's eye. With siblings like Isabelle and Jace, it would be difficult to garner attention especially when Alec was far too busy watching out for them. He remembered Alec showing up on his doorstep stricken and questioning his capabilities as a shadowhunter. It had been sometime after their first date, but something had happened that caused the memory to surface. Jace, naturally it had to be that obnoxious twat, had commented about Alec never killing a demon which, of course, threw Alec into a spiraling mess of doubt. But what the fucker neglected to mention was how every time he and Isabelle went hunting without Alec (something that admittedly only happened after Alec and Magnus started dating)was how their injuries were more severe, and their bickering increased because neither was capable of watching the other's back; too caught up in their own matters. Alec was an integral, but subtle, member of their team. He was just too bloody blind to see it. Magnus had promised himself that day that it was of the upmost importance to compliment Alec as frequently as he possibly could.

"But a flame is only the beginning, and we still have some time before we're called away." With that said, Magnus began to run Alec through the gambit of spells that would be relevant to their excursion. It was slow to start, but once Alec grew accustomed to calling up his magic everything became tremendously easier. And then, Alec tried calling a weapon to him from across the room causing Magnus to interfere. "Easy there, Love. Don't overexert yourself."

"It's in the same room. I think I can manage that much."

Magnus squeezed Alec's shoulder softly. "I have no doubt that you can, but you shouldn't." Dark brows furrowed as Alec pursed his lips in question. If the situation had been different, Magnus would have found himself leaning in kissing that look from the nephilim's face, but now was not the time to learn things the hard way. "The second rule to magic is: don't drain yourself too quickly. The larger the spell, the more magic it takes. Similarly, the longer the distance the spell has to travel, the more magic it consumes. Understand?"

"I think so. Short and easy." Magnus nodded and gave the boy a winning smile. He realized then, that if his end was near, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory next to this unassumingly amazing nephilim. The sincerity of that feeling was startling, but pleasing all the same. In all his long life, he never felt so strongly for someone; a shadowhunter no less. He drifted off in his thoughts as he watched Alec ruminate over all this information. He thought he was old enough now to only be surprised by the technological changes of the mundane world. Yet, he just spent the majority of an hour learning the basics of what it meant to be a shadowhunter; all because of one Lightwood. A metallic flash grabbed his attention. Alec had removed one of the stilettos from its sheath and was flipping it back and forth between his hands eyeing a target across the way. "Short distances, and simple spells."

Where could Alec being going with this? The answer made itself known as the small knife light up with blue fire, and was thrown across the room hitting the center of the target with a contained blast. His brows went high. That was… a brilliant little trick. He hadn't even thought of trying something like that. Their eyes met and Magnus was once again swept into those brilliant blue orbs. The space disappeared between them and soon his lips were pressed against the shadowhunter's pale, chapped mouth in a desperate kiss. All the emotion and longing he had felt since the day he ignored Alec's first call, and then the kiss in the hall. How he wished he could have kissed the nephilim then as he did now and diminish any doubt of whom the boy belong to. Teeth sunk lightly into his lower lip causing him to hum with enjoyment and deepen the kiss drinking in as much of the shadowhunter's essence as he could. This might be the last moment they had, and he wasn't about to spoil it. He threaded his hands through soft, black locks pulling softly and angling the boy's head just so. Soon, the electric burn of Alec's kisses threatened to sear him from the inside out and he had to pull away for want of breath.

Bells rung the alert and Magnus groaned in frustration pressing his forehead against Alec's. What he would give for just one more hour. Alec's hands slipped from his hips and he instantly missed their weight. "I suppose we should be going, then?" Alec's voice was hoarse.

"That would be why the bell tolled, yes." He used the moment to inhale Alec's scent. The salty smell of sweat mingling with the clean crisp scent that he associated with most nephilim, and the earthy smell of sandalwood – something that had only recently made its debut after they'd met. "We don't have to go." Magnus knew the answer would be 'no', but he had to try.

"Magnus, that's my family."

Ever his loyal shadowhunter, Magnus kissed Alec once more chaste, but desperate. "I know. Come, let's gather our things and prepare to meet Valentine's forces." He pulled away from the shadowhunter and grabbed what he would potentially use, namely the sabre. Alec fingered the throwing knife from the target with interest, and Magnus noted that Alec had none of his usual weaponry. "Should we stop by your house to pick up your things?"

Alec nodded as he fitted the knife back into its sheath, and turned to make for the door. "When this is all over, if we live," his voice faltered a bit whether out of fear or embarrassment, Magnus didn't know. "We should spend a couple days together."

He caught the faint flush of red in the nephilim's neck, and fought back a smirk. "Is that a promise, Alexander?" They could do all sorts of fun things just over a couple days.

A tentative nod followed. "I don't see why nod. Everyone will be cleaning up, getting reorganized. I don't think our absence will be noticed." His blush was deeper still.

Magnus marveled at his ever forward nephilim before giving him a magnificent smile. "Well then. I intend to live." Humor danced in his eyes as his fingers fitted through Alec's. Yes, they were going to live, or Lilith there would be hell to pay.

**So what's the verdict? Love it? Hate it? Did you spot my other references? Reviews make me happy and thereby make me get better faster. So… if you don't review, you just want me to be sick (jk). **


	5. Chapter 5

**Holy crap! It took me over a week, but here it is. Sickness kicked, and vacation done I can focus on this again. I really did try to work on this during the weekend, but I kept getting thwarted at every turn. My apology is in the form of 1.5k more words than usual. Well… not really. Magnus was surprisingly introspective, and I argued with him about the significance of some of this. A few choice words later… everything stayed. (Honestly, I give the characters in my head too much freedom.) As always, Malec belongs to Cassandra Clare, I just take liberties with them because she doesn't give us enough of them, in my humble opinion. **

Chapter 5

The air was thick with magic, blood, and the mineral tang of dirt. Brocelind plains had never looked so chaotic and destroyed. Black ichor sprayed over grass quickly disintegrating it into piles of lifeless, foul splotches that would never grow again, and gouges dug deep into the earth leaving an incomprehensible terrain befitting of a name change (Brocelind hills had an acceptable ring to it). But that wasn't the worst of it. The most horrifying display was the untold carnage. There were bodies everywhere downworlder and shadowhunter alike mutilated almost beyond the point of recognition. It was an unsettling scene, one that Magnus fought repeatedly to avoid but inevitably had to face. He wouldn't call himself a pacifist, exactly, but the hopelessness of war and death never sat well with him. Beyond that, he usually didn't like picking sides, but Alexander made sitting on the fence quite impossible. The demons had moved quickly, and efficiently, to section off the allied army into small groups and pick them apart one by one. What they hadn't anticipated was the effects of the _alliance_ rune. Nephilim could receive the grievous of injuries, and the demon would leave them to suffer only to discover the shadowhunter trailing them moments later, completely healthy with incomparable strength. In turn, downworlders fought with shadowhunter instincts learning where best to strike each type of demon to bring them down with the least cost for themselves. It was the strongest display of unity he'd ever witnessed, and he'd found himself humbled by it. He had tried, for centuries, for such an alliance but it never came to fruition as he saw it now.

To the untrained eye, it would seem as though they were failing. Demons folded in on themselves and returned to their original plane upon being 'killed'. Despite that knowledge, it was affecting morale. It was understandable. If one could not see the fallen of the enemy it was difficult to acknowledge that there were casualties and suddenly the odds seem insurmountable especially when the demon ranks looked as if unending. It spoke to Alexander's resilience that he pressed on unquestioningly and unwaveringly covered in ichor and scratches; seraph blade gleaming in his hand. He had long since run out of arrows regardless of trying to reuse them, and resorted to his blades saving the throwing knifes for extenuating circumstances. It was hardly a time to marvel at his capability, but Magnus found it incredibly difficult not to admire Alexander's prowess; to admire their prowess. His endurance rune made them quick on their feet and succinct striking down demons with incredible ease without growing tired. It made Magnus wonder. If Alec was in awe of Jace's ability, Magnus could only begin to imagine his aptitude – It was equally plausible that Alec was selling himself short as his shadowhunter had a tendency to do – in the art of demon fighting.

However, in a very selfish sort of way, Magnus was glad of Jace's absence. It was a remarkable experience fighting back to back with Alec as if they had fought side by side for years. The level of familiarity two people must have to be able to successfully learn each other's tells and signals is not something that usually can be learned within a matter of hours. The _alliance_ rune obviously assisted with that transformation, but Magnus knew that having access to Alec's fighting techniques and practices was only a small part of it. The rest boiled down to trust. On several occasions, they encountered nephilim allied with warlocks and each time both parties had been amazed at what they were capable of together. It appeared as though shadowhunters allied with warlocks were having the most difficult time with mastering the rune's usefulness and purpose. Magnus supposed it made sense. To the most part, Warlocks had no innate abilities to give their partners. Vampires had their speed and strength, and werewolves had their agility and endurance; all things they were simply created with and didn't have to learn to master – Magnus wasn't even going to begin to try and understand what was happening with those partnered with fey; he never was much of a fan of them. Warlocks had to master their magic and had no exceptional physical attributes on the whole. Needless to say, it induced a lot of bickering between the partnerships and perhaps the largest percentage of casualties on their side. But the bickering dwindled once they saw what could be done with the rune. If they lived through this –even he had to admit the never ending demon army was beginning to give him doubts – it would give the clave something to think about on several accounts. How effective they became with the assistance of downworlders was sure enough to have several of their minds blown, but he was selfishly more invested in another matter. Alexander proved his worth as a shadowhunter this day killing innumerable demons and showing several shadowhunters the full extent of what this _alliance_ rune could do thereby saving many of their arses. It would be out of sheer inanity that they order to remove his marks on something as needless as his sexual orientation. After this, they were going to need every nephilim they had.

They reached a respite in attackers for the briefest of moments and shared a few, quick breaths. "Right, how long do we have until sun rise?" Magnus fixed Alec with a sardonic smile.

"Operate under the assumption of hours, Magnus. Counting down to it is only going to make the time in between stretch out longer." Alec sighed and stretched his tired muscles slicking ichor on his clothing in a hopeless effort to clean his seraph blade, and in the process making Magnus cringe.

"I'd prefer the optimist route and think knowing that the time in between is far less than the time when it first began would be exceptionally motivating." But when Magnus turned to give Alec a teasing smile in hopes of lightening their spirits he caught Alec looking off into the distance. He looked in the same direction and saw a shadowhunter and her alliance partner fighting a massive demon. "Alexander?"

Alec's eyes fretfully regarded the scene calculating weaknesses, point of entry, and the status of the two people fighting it. Magnus couldn't help but stare wonderingly at the nephilim's partner. She carried a blade and swung it with shadowhunter like grace, but periodically also shot of small bursts of magic. It was apparent that she was a warlock, and the longer Magnus stared he couldn't help but get the sense that he knew her. "That's Jia Penhallow." Magnus read between the lines and the tone of his voice. Jia was someone he carried about be it due to some childhood memory or because she was a family friend. The demon swung its massive arm and catapulted the woman several feet away knocking the breath out of her as she slammed into the ground. Like any good shadowhunter, she popped back up and ran at the demon despite the blood in her mouth with a hateful look in her eye. The woman most assuredly had spunk.

Black flashed in his periphery, and before he turned he knew he'd find Alec running toward the demon, blade at the ready, and a knife in his hand. Magnus' feet dug into the soft soil as he pushed off after his boyfriend holding his own weapon, prepared. He found himself calculating the distance and the time it would take to cover it (shadowhunting was a surprisingly exact science) and pulled up short. They weren't going to get there in time. Alec must have realized this, too. Blue illuminated Alec's throwing hand and he stopped long enough to aim. The magic transferred from his hand into the weapon turning it blue and with a flick it went sailing through the dense air and hit its mark. The demon's chest exploded with indigo flames stumbling backward arms swinging with the force of the blast.

"JIA, LOOK OUT!" Magnus' head swiveled to his shouting nephilim then to the petit woman – who seemed to have turned to regard the voice yelling at her – and watched in horror has one of those clawed arms swung down on her whipping her to the ground with excessive force. He knew it was bad and could already feel the healing spell surge through his being, but Alec skidded to the ground beside her first, his hand aglow. Air gurgled in her lungs as she tried to breath and blood trickled from her lips; her chest rising and falling with greater speed. Her lungs were punctured and taking on blood, fast. Magnus was about to provide Alec with this information when the shadowhunter moved and encouraged the older woman to rest on her side. "Trust me; you'll breathe easier this way. I'm going to heal you, but I need you to lie still." Problem solved.

It was then that Magnus became aware of the presence standing over his shoulder, looked away from the shadowhunters, and happened upon a most astonishing surprise. There, looking like a heroine from one of her favorite books was Tessa Herondale. Magnus sprang to his feet in shock. "Tessa…" But she wouldn't look at him. Her gaze was transfixed and frightened as she stared down at the fallen shadowhunter. A tremble ran through her being and a violent shake broke out over her. He had never seen her respond to battles in such a way… It dawned on him the moment he began to debate ushering her away. It wasn't Jia that had her spooked. It was Alec. It felt like ages since the last time he made the mistake of thinking Alexander Lightwood had anything in common with Will Herondale, but this was an entirely new sight for her. She had never met the boy before, and Alec wasn't one to make a scene (barring, of course, their very public kiss). His years of hiding his sexual orientation made him very reluctant to do anything that would draw attention to him. And Tessa didn't know him like Magnus did. She couldn't possibly begin to understand that Magnus didn't see Will anymore when he looked at the boy. It wasn't even an edge thought. They were just entirely different people, which admittedly, was part of the reason why Magnus loved him so much. He acknowledged, though, what it meant for Tessa. She had loved Will with every fiber of her being, still did. It had been devastating for her when she'd lost him. Magnus didn't have to ask when she showed up at his flat looking worn and spent like all that she lived for and loved in life was suddenly gone why she was there. She'd fallen into his arms and cried desperately asking him when the pain would stop. He remembered telling her as gently as he could that the pain doesn't stop. It only dulls, and only with time. "The first was always the hardest," Magnus told her then, but now he wasn't so sure if that statement was true anymore. The first would always be remembered, but Alec was beginning to make him question if his first love would be the hardest. Every time they encountered a demon Alexander running right into the fray he wiggled his way that much further into the deepest recesses of Magnus' heart, and with each close encounter it was that much harder to lose him. Magnus came back to awareness as Tessa's loud breaths filtered through his ears. The wounds were still too fresh and deep. He pulled her to him wrapping her up in a tight hug and repeated the mantra, "It's not him. It's not _him,_" into her ear until it appeared as though she was starting to calm.

"Will. Will. _Will_." She repeated in a daze until another voice spoke over her.

"Alec?" Jia Penhallow's voice was slurred and gruff like molasses oozing out of a broken jar. Her wounds were almost completely healed, and her breath much lighter. She was looking at Alec and his hand wonderingly as if she couldn't believe her own eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I would have thought that was obvious." The crooked, snarky smile he gave the woman would have knocked the knees right out from under Magnus, but considering the circumstance he was much too distracted. Needless to say, Alec's bedside manner was pleasing and soothing. Tessa hiccupped softly and pulled away from his hold completely observing Alec in a new light.

Jia reached for the stele protruding from Alec's pocket before adding confusedly, "But you're not using your stele." This one fact was escaping her comprehension completely, and Magnus could almost laugh. Her eyes were puzzled and her lips pursed together in question. She and Tessa must not have been as connected as they appeared. Once upon a time, Tessa had been trained by the shadowhunters to fight as the fought and defend herself. Lilith, she married one of them. Perhaps that was what made their pairing so confusing. At first glance, Magnus would have thought they had mastered their bond almost as well as he and Alec. They moved fluidly as if they were pulling from the same wealth of knowledge, but mayhap it was only because they had similar training.

Alec wobbled slightly in his crouch as the magic began to slow until it stopped completely. He was using too much of it, and it was beginning to take its toll on his energy. If he wasn't careful, soon he would be passed out simply from exhaustion. He pulled the object from Jia's loose grip and chided her softly. "I'm getting to that. The _iratze_ would have taken too long on its own. This way, you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"How do you know all this?"

Oceanic eyes met his, and his heart skipped a beat at the clarity and surety within their depths. "I just know." His hand wrapped around his stele while his nimble fingers looked for a clear patch of skin to etch into, and soon the sizzling of flesh being burned was competing with the sounds of combat. It was a trait undeniable Alec that he continued to heal another person giving absolutely no sign of his own discomfort. Magnus watched his eyes cross several times and his eyes droop, but he pressed on until the rune was done. "All done."

The sound of fighting pervaded their temporary bubble of silence, and soon Jia was scrambling to her feet. With Tessa's help, they were ready to dive back into the skirmish, but they were the least of Magnus' worry. Alec hadn't budged probably due to his head feeling as though it was swimming. Kneeling beside him, Magnus held is hands out to him. Alec held onto them with a confused look. "Take some of my strength; lest you wish to retire from the front and run away with me. Even then, you can be sure I want you rested and spritely." He gave the boy a teasing, libidinous smile knowing his halfhearted plea would go unheeded. Alexander was too loyal, and too noble for such pusillanimity. The boy closed his eyes and concentrated pulling the necessary thoughts to the forefront of his mind. It was the first time he had ever felt the drain of giving another his strength, and the feeling was bewildering. To think that Alec had so easily giving this of himself was heartrending. He felt the weakness, the exhaustion like he had run for miles until his legs were prepared to buckle beneath him. Every time Alec had done this for him, he risked the chance of leaving himself more vulnerable, but he still did it without hesitation or question. Hopefully, the battle would come to a close soon, or they could easily find themselves in a troubling situation. The weariness suddenly eased from his bones, and Magnus turned to inspect his nephilim burning a rune into his skin.

"The old one wore off." He answered the unasked question as he tugged on the sleeve of his shirt and pocketed his stele. His high cheeks were flushed, and his chapped lips pursed into a thoughtful expression. Something was clearly on his mind. "Is that what it feels like when I give you my strength?"

Magnus smiled and lightly ran the backs of his fingers over the shadowhunter's face. Sharing one's strength was challenging to describe. Magnus felt like a leech parasitically draining Alexander of the sustenance he needed to survive every time he had given Magnus what he needed; almost like taking a part of him for his own. Yet, Alec chose to give it freely because he cared for Magnus' wellbeing and safety. It was an incredibly intimate experience that he was certain Alec hadn't grasped the enormity of. So he was pleased that the shadowhunter had the chance to be on the receiving end of it for a change. "I'm glad to give it to you for a change. You've done enough for me; it's time I give it back." This boy was going to be the death of him.

An uncomfortable clearly of someone's throat broke the boys of their lingering, and both turned to look at the uncertain face of Jia Penhallow. Magnus wasn't entirely surprised by the look on her countenance. It spoke of aversion, but acceptance (they had just saved her life, after all). It wasn't going to be easy for the shadowhunters to except them not only has a homosexual couple, but also has a shadowhunter and a downworlder. This war was bringing about great change from them all, and change was never easy. It was the underlying look in her eye that had him confused; something almost akin to worry. "Last time I saw her, your mother was thirty meters that way." She vaguely pointed off to her side stretching out her almost healed shoulder. "She'd want you close by. You should go to her." An aggrieved lilt weaved through her words as if it was imperative that Alec follow this suggestion for both their sakes. Something must have happened between the two women prior to battle, and she was trying to do her best to rectify it.

Alec produced a comforting nod, "I will," and Magnus used the opportunity to gauge his friend. She had been silent through the whole exchange and he was worried about her wellbeing. There were those who would be most distressed if anything happened to her, and he didn't want her fighting when her mind was on other things – because frankly, he would be a little freaked out too if he happened upon his long since dead husband's clone. Tessa must have read his mind, or at least knew his thoughts, for she met his eyes with a reassuring smile and nodded. He smiled back, pleased. They were going to have a lot to talk about. A hand grasped his elbow causing him to jerk in surprise and whip his head around to come face to face with none other than his angelic boyfriend. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be, Darling." Alec bounced on his feet before taking off at a light jog across the expanse of land. Magnus had to admit that he found it a bit odd that they were going out of their way to find Alec's mother. He resented it, actually, and then resented the fact that he loved it, too. By no means was any of it Alec's fault. Magnus could easily admit (to himself at the very least) that it had to deal with his abandonment issues. Alec's parents had been nonexistent at the institute, and frequently had left their older children to fend for themselves. It made them independent and jaded which a horribly selfish part of Magnus liked; could relate to. Then he heard about the other parts. Alec beaming with childlike glee as Robert Ligthwood gave him his beloved weapon to fight with, or Maryse cooking family dinners and singing to the children when she was home. There was love there. It was expressed sparingly and usually after all other things were said and done. Reputation came first, after all. But Max's death had hit the family hard, and Magnus swallowed his selfishness putting himself in Maryse's place. Lilith, he wasn't going to let Alec out of his sight for fear of losing him, why wouldn't his mother feel the same way? At least this way, two people would be watching over his shadowhunter keeping him as safe as they could.

Demons impaired their path and were eradicated as quickly as they came. Magnus was thankful that the large majority of the demon army was lower level, subservient demons that were senseless and easy to overpower or trick. They also had the tendency to alert one when they were coming giving them ample time to prepare for them and strike. By the time they happened upon Maryse, she and her partner were surrounded by small swarm of ravener demons managing them just fine. Be that as it may, Alec drove in eliminating the first three with two quick swipes and then forcing the third to stab itself with its barbed tail leaving Magnus to dispose of the others in a fabulous array of fire and electricity.

Maryse's only tell was the slight widening of her eyes. "Alec."

"Mother." Well, Magnus knew where Alec got his reserved nature from.

Her eyes skirted past Magnus as if she could pretend he was not there and roved over her eldest child searching for wounds, he imagined. Despite having found none, she asked. "Are you injured?" Her voice balanced the tight rope of professional and motherly concern. He wouldn't find it hard to believe if he learned most if not all nephilim mother's had that talent. How many of them had prematurely lost their children to such circumstances?

"We're fine." Alec emphasized the "we're" with such finality that Magnus couldn't help but smile softly. His shadowhunter was bound to be quite the conundrum for a long time surprising him with when he chose to take his stands and when not to. She gave him short, stoic nod leaving the rest for another time. Magnus followed him as he turned his back to her and her vampire partner loosely swinging his blade to prepare for the next onslaught. It felt strangely like a last stand which was something that Magnus didn't particularly want to think about, but was beginning to admit was an extreme possibility. The human body, be it tainted by demonic diseases or laced with angel or demon blood, had its limits: muscles would tire out, adrenaline would wear off, and then all that was needed was one wrong move. "Hey, Magnus. Still planning on keeping that promise?"

It took him a moment to realize what Alec was referring to. When had he made a promise? He searched his vast memory before realizing that the nephilim had been asking about the training room, and growled lowly and determinedly. "Damn right I am." He'd fight heaven and hell to have more time with Alec. Of that, he had no doubts. Alec smiled at him and nodded making Magnus suddenly realize what he had been doing. His despair must have started to show on his face, and Alexander was using the opportunity to give Magnus hope like a commander would to a subordinate in some war movie. Never would he have thought he'd need such a reassurance. He had centuries on the boy, but still he found it comforting.

The demons were endless gnawing, clawing, and thrashing through the plain as if they had been starved and then let loose on an unsuspecting meal. Sweat dripped in Magnus' face causing his eyes to burn with makeup. The burn of lactic acid in his muscles told him the adrenaline was wearing off and that he had over exerted himself, but he pressed on. He was so focused on forcing his limbs to keep moving that he didn't notice immediately when Alec fell pressing his hand to his chest and breathing erratically. Every rational thought escaped him as the deafening sound of blood in his ears blocked out all noise except the wild thrumming of his heart. No, they were so close. There was no way he would accept losing Alexander now. They had fought too hard together and accomplished too much. It was entirely _unfair_. Magnus knelt beside the dark haired shadowhunter and clasped his hands tightly on his shoulders. He had been using his magic sparingly, now, in order to keep from exhausting himself. His resilience with magic might have been far superior to Alec's, but he was still capable of being drained and the sleepy enticement of overexertion was playing heavily at the edges of his mind. Alec was worth it, though. "Let me-"

The ground was suddenly drawing closer, and it took face-planting against the scratchy grass for Magnus to realize he had been pushed, or rather flung. He peered over his shoulder to witness Alec with his seraph blade stretched out before him and a demon dematerializing on its other end; its barbed tail mere inches from where he had been crouched. Alec's breaths were irregular, but his voice was clear. "Damn it, Magnus. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" No, he hadn't been. He was too busy worrying about Alec's sorry ass. But… wasn't he injured? Magnus scrambled to his feet eyeing the nephilim critically. There was a glazed look in his eye as if he wasn't wholly there combating demons through sheer muscle memory and peripheral awareness (which admittedly was an amazing feat). Where was his mind?

A stricken grimace etched across his features, and Magnus knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was _wrong_. "Alec, what's the matter?"

There was a long, churning pause before Alec returned solemnly, "Nothing. Nothing's the matter." Magnus didn't believe it for a second, but the oncoming forces gave him little time to argue with the nephilim. He filed it away for later, and went through the motions of telling his arms to move, again.

It felt like days since they started. So, when a shuddering pause broke out through the demon ranks, what happened afterward felt like milliseconds. They scattered darting every which way to avoid the shadowhunter blades and downworlder fury. The stupider ones kept fighting, but everything else with a shred of intelligence bolted. Magnus and his nephilim, like every other capable fighter, started to scour the plains clearing out any remaining demons and searching out wounded. It was a tedious task, but Magnus barely batted a lash at it merely thankful that the battle was over and that for some inexplicable reason the demons ran. Dead on his feet, he turned to Alec watching him rub at his chest mindlessly. "What happened back there?"

Alec's brows were knitted in confusion. "I don't know." He was lying, but Magnus chose not to press on it. He'd discover it in due time. "Whatever it was, it's gone now." Nodding, Magnus moved to invade Alexander's space breathing in the boy and reveling in the fact they were alive. They'd made it through Valentine's gauntlet, and now he could fantasize about the endless possibilities ahead of them. His lips were a hair's breadth away from Alec's when the shadowhunter killed the moment. "We should probably help bring people back to Alicante."

Magnus sighed and kissed him anyway, chastely. "Your sense of duty is demoralizing, Darling. I expect to be repaid for this selfless act of kindness." Despite everything, Alec blushed and Magnus found himself laughing delightedly.

**So, what's the verdict? I've tried to keep it fairly realistic (as realistic as fantasy can be, anyway). Hopefully that has been conveyed. As always, I love to hear your thoughts, readers. I am also debating a rating change for… reasons *coughs*. If you take issue with this, speak now or forever hold your peace. **_**This isn't an absolute certainty**_**, I am just preparing you all and giving you the option to say "hell, yes!" or "how dare you, no!" And depending on the responses, I'll see what I can do. Grosses bises!**


	6. Chapter 6

**There is no excuse for why this took me so long. I started writing this shortly after posting the last chapter, got about half of it done, and saved the rest of it for tonight. I've had a lot of big girl responsibilities, and to do lists to check off before the last vestiges of summer are gone completely so I have been trying to do those. I think I will have one chapter left? I wrote the last 3K in one sitting, so if you see errors. I am sorry. I tried to fix them all, but I am sure I missed some. As always, Cassie gets the credit for the characters. I get the credit for filling in how they got from point A to point B. **

Chapter 6

Alec didn't know what happened. He and Magnus had been walking back to Alicante hand in hand when Jace and Clary made their appearance severely beaten up and exhausted. It had been entirely reactionary to reach out and help keep Jace on his feet, but he was certain his relief had shown on his face.

Something had happened while they had been fighting. Alec couldn't describe it, but for a moment he felt a sharp pain in his _parabatai_ rune and then nothing. Absolutely nothing. He hadn't realized how habituated he had become to always feeling Jace on the other end of that rune until he wasn't there anymore. There had been a sudden void in his world an emptiness that was almost encompassing to the point of asphyxiation. His awareness of his surroundings dulled to a dreamy haze until all he knew was the erratic beating of his heart in his ears and the hopeless feeling of insurmountable loss. That was, until, green filled his vision; a light jade color that conjured thoughts of feline eyes. It was enough of a tug on his memories to pull him back to reality because as painful as it was to admit to himself that his _parabatai_ could very well be dead Magnus was next to him in a fight for their lives and Alec had abandoned him. The emptiness eased only to be replaced with a fearful, self-loathing pit in his stomach. Just the thought of losing Magnus quelled any thoughts of Jace, and as his cognizance of his surroundings re-emerged the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise alerting him of eminent danger. Years of protecting Jace and Isabelle's backs had come in handy as his natural reaction was to get Magnus out of the way of the oncoming demon. What he hadn't expected was the sudden deep rooted hate he had for the foul creature in that moment. No, that wasn't explanation enough. It wasn't just hate – it was in a shadowhunter's blood to hate demons – it was fury and wrathful righteousness. How dare this impudent, repugnant creature think to even try and take his warlock from him? That was the moment when defense fell to the wayside and the urge to strike took over. It was another moment of great change for Alec, though he didn't realize it until later. Just like their kiss in the hall of accords, it was a moment when it wasn't enough to simply defend what he cared for. He had to fight for it, too, to take the leap forward and challenge the world.

Alec had plenty of time to think about it now sitting at Jace's bedside and pondering everything that had happened. He was physically exhausted but his mind raced with restless thoughts. After the dust of battle faded, Alec had become aware of Jace again, but he couldn't deny the nothingness. Magnus had inquired softly, worriedly about his state of being but Alec had shrugged it off. Technically nothing was wrong at the time, but he couldn't deny that something had been wrong; very wrong. The acceptance that his _parabatai_ was alive didn't fully settle on him until he set eyes upon the idiot. But perhaps that was part of the problem. Habit, and a need to physically feel Jace in order to settle his weary mind, pulled him forward releasing Magnus' hand in order to heft the majority of his _parabatai's_ weight onto his shoulders. Clary was buckling under his mass, and was not likely to carry him any further. Besides, Alec always felt as if it was his responsibility to care for his siblings. They were so reckless and delusional about their invincibility someone had to keep it from being the death of them. Though he had to admit, it was still kind of surreal that that was all that Jace was to him now; his brother and best friend. But even as he adjusted that arm around his shoulders in a benign movement, his skin tingled and turned to gooseflesh. He felt the intensity of Magnus' gaze on him, and knew instantly that he must have miss-stepped. Their eyes met, and amongst the flurry of things passing through them the only emotion Alec could clearly read was disquiet. Before Alec could question him about it though, Magnus was on him gently squeezing his arm and mumbling rapidly beneath his breath. Alec couldn't garner much beyond Magnus saying he needed to arrange some things for a friend, but by the angel he wanted to. There was a melancholy note to his voice that made Alec want to drop everything – yes, even Jace – just to apologize and ask him to tell him everything that was on his mind.

It didn't dawn on him until later that he hadn't told Magnus of his revelation about Jace. How Jace had practically demanded that Alec kiss him, and Alec instantly flinched in disgust. It had always seemed like an impossibility. Jace was as straight as they came. He had no expectations that his _parabatai_ would be willing to even consider giving him a chance; even if it was only to prove a point. Perhaps that was why he needed Jace to thrust his affections in his face and challenge them like a proverbial smack to the face to snap one out of a stupor. What amazed him was the mix of emotions he felt afterward. A part of him expected to feel hurt that Jace would offer up himself in such a way without having any heart behind it. Instead, he was overcome with shame. It was humiliating that it had taken him so long to see Magnus' arguments were right. Of course, the issue was not the Magnus was right (Magnus was always right, after all), but how blindly Alec had fought against it for no other reason than his own stubbornness and insecurities. For the longest time, all they had was each other. Izzy came into the picture shortly thereafter but even then partners came and went; only the three remained. Jace had constancy in one way, shape, or form. When Alec needed him most, Jace was always there. But as Alec pursed his lips in thought and gazed at his healing brother he came to realize that statement wasn't true. The veils he had so carefully erected to hide Jace's faults had finally tumbled into the void leaving his brother-in-arms exposed in his truest form. The form Alec had fought years not to see. Jace was always the one charging into things so it was always Alec who had his back, but time and time again he shown that when their situations were reversed he wasn't there: Abbadon, the demon raid on Alicante, his kiss with Magnus in the Hall of Accords were just a few that quickly passed through his mind. Sure, he was deeply apologetic and guilty afterward, but what if there wasn't an afterward? Abbadon made it clear that Alec wasn't the first person on Jace's mind, and though at one point that knowledge hurt he found himself reconciling it now. Hadn't he just done the same? Alec had felt the pull to be by Jace's side the call that said he was "needed now or there may not be an afterward", but instead he separated himself from it entirely closing his mind and heart to the plea in order to protect Magnus.

After all that effort, he probably ruined his chances with the warlock, now. The last thing Magnus needed was seeing him run after his _parabatai_ again doting on him and falling to pieces at the sight of him injured and barely on his feet. Alec supposed that in truth it really was the last thing he wanted Magnus to see. He couldn't speak for what Magnus did and did not need, but he had made it clear he didn't want to come in second place to Jace. The skin over his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his entangled hands propped up on his knees with his foot bouncing agitatedly against the floor. He messed things up big this time. Magnus was going to think he wasn't over Jace and that everything that had happened since they got to Alicante was a farce. Would he even come back to Alicante? Was this just an excuse to get away from Alec? For the first time in his life he had clarity. He knew what it was that he wanted, and had the gumption to tell everyone about it despite public opinion. For what purpose? To drive it away with one idiotic action after another? He'd be lucky if Magnus ever spoke to him again.

_Alexander Lightwood_. The voice in his mind startled him. There was only one group of people who could do that, and a shiver went down his spine at the prospect. Silent brothers always made him twitchy. It wasn't the mutilating marks they bore either though they could be disturbing in their own right – he couldn't even begin to image the pain one incurred as his lips were sewn shut, or to have his eyes gouged out. It was the ease with which one of them could sneak up on a person. Alec had runes that aided him with being aware of his surroundings, but since the silent brothers produced no danger for him it didn't set off the prickling sensation of eminent danger. When one spends most of his time constantly aware of everything going on about him, having something in his environment without his knowledge was unnerving. That thought set off another thought. How long had the silent brother been there? His brows furrowed anxiously hoping beyond hope the brother hadn't been here long enough to hear his internal debates.

"How lo-"

_I have only just arrived, Alexander Lightwood. I did not wish to startle you, or trespass on your reverie unnoticed. _Well, that was a relief. He'd really hate to have the privacy of his own mind invaded while he was plummeting into the mess that was his so called "love life". Only to have yet another person to judge him for whom he loved even though he had no right to. Alec maneuvered in his chair just enough to catch a glimpse of the silent brother out of the corner of his eye so that he could at least be comforted by having him in his sight. The cowl of his robes was pulled low over his face making it impossible for Alec to see even the faintest slice of skin. He didn't know why he was looking for it. It was an illogical desire. Silent brothers displayed no facial expressions, but that only propelled him even more to know what the brother was thinking. Alec found it to be a bit unbalanced, really. Why was it justifiable for them to read his every thought, but he wouldn't be able to see any of theirs? Still, the other end of the spectrum was could be appealing, if he could convince his mind to accept it. The brother could carry his prejudices with him to the grave silent and listless as fog on the Hudson. But then, it would be a long time before he reached his grave.

The reality of the situation finally settled on Alec's muddled mind; a silent brother standing at the end of Jace's infirmary bed. "What's wrong with Jace?"

There was an empty silence between them more than one would expect. It was almost as if the silent brother was hesitating. _He is healing well. Your _parabatai_ will make a full recovery. Mostly, he needs rest_. A breath that he hadn't realized he was holding escaped him in a rush. He hadn't felt anything troubling in his rune, but then again he thought Jace had been dead yet here he was. Clearly something was amiss. At this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if he had missed an underlying ailment. His mind was obviously someplace else; on catlike eyes, bronzed skin, perfect lips, and the heady smell of incense and sandalwood. His eyelids drooped as his imagination carried him into the recesses of his mind where Magnus was there, holding him, and filling the void with his presence making him feel safe and loved. The drowsiness that had escaped him until this point was finally settling over his mind calling to him as the edges of his vision melted and the ambient sounds of the room became distant until a pin prick of awareness in his conscious mind pulled him back to the surface. Bleary eyed he tilted his head back up from his resting position over the back of the chair trying to puzzle out what it was that caused him to stir. It took him nearly a full minute to realize that it was the silent brother that upset his slumber. Instead of looking at Jace like he had been when he came in, the brother had turned in such a way that gave Alec no doubt that he was the center of the other man's speculative gaze. Being that nothing physically ailed him and considering where his mind had just drifted off to, his hackles began to rise. There was no need for the brother to study him so acutely. Anger boiled in his veins as he began to postulate on the brother's intentions, admittedly unfairly, but he had been getting too many sideways glances since the hall of accords. Everyone had an opinion (not that they really had a right to one) and wished to impose it on him, them. He was about to tell the silent brother what he thought of everyone's opinion when he was suddenly cut off. _I believe you have visitors. I'll leave you to them._ Dare Alec say the brother's voice sounded strangely amused? But that didn't make sense.

A timid throat clearing stirred him to look toward the entrance where he took in the unexpected sight of Jia Penhallow and her daughter Aline. It felt like ages since the last time he had laid eyes on either woman, but he supposed he was pleased to see both standing on their feet in good health. Alec hadn't been entirely certain what happened to Aline after the demon attack on Alicante. He managed to pull the demon off of her only to have her freak out on him and run in the opposite direction. The whole incident made him lose a little faith in nephilim training. She was only a few years younger than him, yet her reaction to a fight was to run frantically through the streets hoping to not get snagged by a demon. Granted, he knew that not all women shadowhunters were trained to the degree the men were. Sexism lives on, but deep down he hoped that there had been some sort of baseline. His mother and Izzy were, admittedly, a bit of an exception. Maryse Lightwood was not one to stand aside and let someone else do the work for her. Her independence and stout nature was something he admired, and was very glad his sister had inherited. On more than one occasion he wished he had inherited them too, but wishing didn't do anything. Perhaps it was that Aline had no interest in fighting. Jia had been a part of the battle which suggested that women in her family were taught equally. It would make sense that Aline had no desire to take on the shadowhunter life, and he supposed he could respect that. It wasn't meant for everyone.

Jia's large almond shaped eyes regarded his with reticence and hesitation, and it occurred to him she was waiting to be acknowledged. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Penhallow. How can I help you? Are you and Aline here to see Jace? I can step out." To use a term Magnus had taught him once – he decided to not delve into exactly why Magnus had taught him such a term – Jace was a 'heartbreaker'. It annoyed him for surprisingly unselfish reasons that Jace had toyed with Aline once they arrived in Alicante because, for once, he recognized it for what it was. With a flash of his charming smile, and charismatic bravado, Jace had used Aline to distraction. Finding out that Clary was his sister had been the knife to the sweet spot. The wound that would not heal, and sepsis until the toxins seeped through his veins and everything was destroyed. It was entirely unfair to Aline, and depending upon how deep her feelings delved, would be irrevocably painful to bear. Alec lived it, he knew. Jace was entirely too good at using the people around him to an end, and as angering as it should have been all he found was sadness and disappointment because he couldn't blame him. Alec was not blind to the idiosyncrasies and ticks he garnered from his own upbringing so he could only begin to comprehend the amount of damage his _parabatai_ had endured. What made it worse was that there was no way of knowing how deep it ran. Jace had experienced what it was like to be accepted into the Lightwood family (which undoubtedly wasn't all that great, either) leaving Alec to hope that Jace would eventually see the depth of his mistakes. Sooner rather than later would have been nice.

Bracing his hands on the armrests of his chair, he moved to stand only to be halted fastidiously. "No, nono. I…" She trailed off and looked to her daughter beyond her shoulder, sharing a look he couldn't quite comprehend. "I'm here to see you, actually."

As he settled back into his seat, he turned the chair to face her giving her what attention he could give. Come on, he was tired. One can't expect to have the undivided attention of a sleep deprived teen who doesn't know if his boyfriend is still his boyfriend. "How may I be of assistance, Mrs. Penhallow?"

"Jia," she smiled cagily, "You're an adult now, Alec. You can call me by my first name. You even did so on the battlefield." Her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly.

He supposed he had. "How foolish of me to forget. How are you feeling?"

Jia untwisted her hands from the knot she had created of them and moved slowly to sit on the empty bed next to him. Her voice and posture were in dissonance with each other. Her back was straight and proud, but the timbre of her voice was almost docile. "I am well. What you did for me on Brocelind plain very probably saved my life." The curiosity swept through her speech. "How did you do it?"

"My alliance partner was a warlock." Alec tried not to sound caustic, but the question really grated at his already frayed nerves. If she hadn't seen what happened in the hall of accords, surely she'd heard about it. "And his name is Magnus."

There was an almost imperceptible flinch in her dark eyes before they lifted to ensure her daughter was still there. "Right, my apologies. I knew that. It's just… my partner was a warlock too, and I didn't have near the mastery of her abilities as you showed. I'm amazed, really."

Did she really come here to talk with him about this? It didn't make any sense. Alec chanced a quick glance at Aline and witnessed a stubborn set to her jaw. That was peculiar. It made him take a longer look at the woman in front of him twisting her hands together again restlessly. No, this wasn't why she came here, and as the evidence trickled in – she wouldn't hold his eyes for very long and now he was finally grasping why – he realized that she was uncomfortable. Dread burrowed deep into his stomach. He knew that once he was out of the closet that people would treat him differently, but he was beginning to understand that it was going to take some adjusting to. This was a woman who had known him most his life, and she could barely stand to look at him. How would others react? But this was also a valuable moment for him not because of his sexual orientation, but because of something else Magnus represented. Licking his lips, he formed his words slowly, "Magnus and I acknowledged quickly that we don't operate under the same practices and techniques when it comes to facing demons. Warlocks don't have seraph blades, and shadowhunters don't do magic. So, we practiced in what little time we had before the call to arms. In doing so, we had better mastery of each other's abilities. It's nothing that others can't do; they just have to be open minded." Jai released a weak chuckle and opened her mouth to speak, but Alec cut her off. By this point, he didn't care. He was starting to get really tired of worrying about what other people thought of him. Perhaps it was the fatigue talking. "Whatever it is you really came here to say, don't bother. I don't need to hear how uncomfortable I make you, that I am sick in the head and need help, or how _wrong_ I am. I have never felt more at home in my own skin as I do right now, and not having to hide my true self is the most liberating experience I've ever known. What you say or think will not change that." He was going to regret this later. The words echoed in his mind and he knew that the moment he woke up after a good night's rest they would flood back into it with horrifying clarity.

A deafening silence enveloped them. Jia looked mortified as she soaked in his words, and Aline watched her mother with fierce determination. What was going on here? It felt like hours before Jia wetted her lips slowly, carefully formulating her response. "You misunderstand. I…" She turned to her daughter once more, and fixed her with a look that he himself saw little of but couldn't help but swim in when he received it. The Greek term was 'agape', but Alec knew it by its more secular term: love, as a parent loves a child. Brown clashed with blue, as Jia pressed on unflinchingly, "You saved my life out there. I may not understand your relationship, but I want you to know that if you ever need me I will do what I can; be it supporting you with the clave, or otherwise. I will fight with every fiber of my being. I am indebted to you for my life and for teaching me as much as you have in so little time. I swear it, by the angel."

Alec was stunned. Not only was he surprised by Jia's oath, but the implications of it, too. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about the clave's reaction. The clave was partly why he had remained in hiding about his sexual orientation for as long as he had, but it had been a thought that was far from the forefront of his mind. But now that it resurfaced, it sent a chill down his spine just to think of the possible repercussions. He made the right decision of that he was sure, but the fear still crept in like ice freezing then thawing on the crowded stress of New York breaking the concrete it suffused with ease. He peered off dazedly running through hypotheticals. Would they strip him of his marks? Magnus told him once that some mundanes sent their loved ones to camps to try and 'make them better'. He didn't think the clave had anything of that sort, but his overstimulated mind sill produced a vivid image. Would it all be for naught if Magnus broke up with him? What amazed him the most was that the last question is what frightened him the most. His very existence was on the line and what worried him most was if the warlock had finally given up on him.

The familiar clack of Izzy's heels pervaded his deteriorating thoughts. They had been taking turns watching Jace waiting for him to wake so that they both could accost him for his stupidity. Izzy had summed up what she had done knowing that Jace would run off and do something stupid, but a part of him was pleased that she was able to aid in Sebastien's defeat. She'd been in a strop since Max, and though Alec felt just as guilty he knew she needed it more than he did to play a part in his demise. By no means did it make the situation better, but it provided her with the first stitch of healing. A hand smoothed over his shoulder and squeezed in affectionately. "My turn; go try and get some sleep, or something. You look terrible."

The jibe made him chuckle softly, but nonetheless he was up and pushing past the doors and into the crowded hallway. It had been nearly a day since the battle started. Nephilim and downworlders were both slowly but rhythmically being released from the infirmary, but there were still wounded to be treated. He decided to clear the area as quickly as possible so as not to be a burden and also to avoid the stares. He doubted he would get any sleep, but being away from people was sounding like a more appealing prospect by the second. Stepping out the doors, he stood awash in the fresh, crisp night air letting the wind leach into his bones take his troubles with it. Then, he opened his eyes and questioned if he had stepped into a hallucination produced by his sleep deprived mind. There, not ten feet away, stood Magnus watching him openly, scrutinizing. "Is this a dream?"

Magnus features softened at the hope in Alec's voice. Whatever had transpired while he was gone had left him just as haggard as Alec was. Still, he managed to smile that Cheshire smile that always left Alec's heart racing. "No, if this were a dream, you'd be naked, and we wouldn't be here." A light, giddy feeling overtook him. Perhaps not all was forgiven, but Alec could recognize a chance when he saw it. Barely containing himself, Alec hastened down the steps closing the gap between them with incredible ease until his fingers fitted through short black hair and his mouth was pressed against familiar full lips. Until that moment he had never felt more alive, or more at home.

**Hopefully the end of this doesn't come off rushed. The first time I read through it I thought not, but the second time I wasn't so sure. Reviews are always nice; especially since I have to work this weekend and this week. They will do nicely to break up the monotony. **


	7. Interlude

**Before everyone gets excited… this is NOT the next chapter. This is my apology for being off the radar for like two weeks. I know I don't have the most consistent posts, but I try to keep it at a week tops. It's been difficult to write, not because I don't know what to write but because I need to find the motivation. Additionally, I am going to warn you all now that this might become a bit of a habit for a while. The short version is that I am on the hunt for a new job. The government contract I work on is exchanging hands, and the hands it is being exchanged into are not the nicest or the most put together. They want me to do the job that I do now for significantly less pay and more stress. And I simply refuse. I am blessed to be in a situation where I don't HAVE to work, but I am incredibly independent and I hate having to rely completely on my man to take care of everything. I know it is out of love, but I just have so many past demons and bad memories associated with having to rely on others to support me. I can rant on this for hours, so if you're interested pm me. If not, I promise I am stopping here. The next chapter is in the works. I have about a fourth of it done, and am hoping to have it finished by the end of my weekend (again no promises). In the meantime here is a perspective we haven't had yet. This came to me at work today and I figured it might help tide people over. (Let me know if it works!) As always, characters belong to CC, I am just filling stuff in with my interpretation of events. **

Interlude

A sliver of light grew into a wide bar as the door slipped soundlessly open. After everything that had happened, she almost hadn't expected to find him there, but she took precautions anyway burning a rune into the door before even attempting to open it. Sometimes, when the air was particularly damp –as it would be this time of year – the wood would swell causing it to fit tightly in the frame of the doors and thereby making them stick and creak. If he was here, the last thing she wanted was to interrupt his much needed sleep. By no means, was Maryse unaware of her children's movements. It was her_ job_ to know their whereabouts and the status of their beings. She knew the minute Jace was placed into the infirmary, and she was cognizant that Alexander and Isabelle never left his side. It warmed her heart that her children were so united and close supporting each other through thick and thin as a family unit should, but if she were being honest with herself it pained her, too. She and Robert had been absentee parents too busy trying to regain respect within the shadowhunter ranks to even devote a considerable amount of time and energy to their oldest children. The only children they had, now. They had grown up without her becoming self-reliant, self-sufficient warriors, and she regretted it immensely.

The door stood ajar only enough to give her light to see within the room causing the dusty particulate in the air to show as it swam lazily as if being taken up by a slow and soothing current. Jace's bed was clean and crisp as she expected it to be. The days leading up the battle had been chaotic and it showed in the cleanliness of his possessions for one who has no control over one's own life needs to control something. She knew it was bad when he started to clean communal things: the library, weapons, the kitchen… Hopefully, now that the dust was settling, he'd calm.

A sigh of relief escaped her at the shadowy mass on Alexander's bed, but almost instantaneously she stiffened in readiness. The mass was much too large to be Alec. He was tall and broad shouldered, like Robert, but his still had the slight frame of a teenager. The edges of her eyes crinkled as she peered into the room trying to make of the situation what she could. Only then, did it click. An arm jutted out flat against the pillow palm up, open under a mass of hair, unruly and cut haphazardly; clearly Alec. The nails of the hand were cleanly trimmed and painted darkly, and the hand had no markings to suggest nephilim. Another hand, similar in appearance except for the slowly dwindling _alliance_ rune, was draped low around a narrow waist usually hidden beneath bulky and unkempt sweaters. Maryse followed the line of that arm to the face of none other than Magnus Bane. She hadn't anticipated this, but she couldn't explain why. She had been in the Hall of Accords and witnessed the kiss they'd shared, and she'd watched them fight alongside each other in battle. Where one was, the other seemed to be not too far behind. It was still too much to take in, too much to understand.

Questions seeped into her mind poisoning her ability to appreciate the moment. How long had this been going on? She remembered hearing what happened while she, Robert, and Max had been in Alicante. Alexander had been attacked by a greater demon, and knowing that the silent brothers would not get there in time, Hodge called upon Magnus Bane to heal him. It didn't occur to her until this moment that he hadn't asked for payment. Given that information, it probably started before then – Magnus always charged outrageous prices. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she gave a violent shake of her head. How did she not know this? How little did she know of all her children? What other secrets had been hidden from her?

Maryse stifled a sob sucking in air and holding it until her lungs felt as though they were ready to burst. Had she always been so disconnected? Straining to quell her restless emotions, she focused on the bed once more. One of Alec's hands was resting on Magnus' hip, mirroring the warlock's hold; genteel but looking as though even in sleep he tried to pull him closer. The other hand was fisted lightly in the fabric of the warlock's shirt as if letting go would be the death of him. The hand rested just beneath his chin which bent down slightly. Alexander, from an early age, usually folded in on himself in his sleep. She'd always thought it was a strange habit of his, but now it made sense. Her shy, introverted son was perhaps not so shy or introverted. Mayhap, he'd been buckled under the weight of his attraction to other men and the secret he wished to hide and sleep was his only refuge. But as she stared at him now forehead to forehead and nose to nose with that gaudy warlock, she witnessed the first sleeping smile she'd seen on his face in _years. _

The selfishness faded until all that was left in her tired mind and heart was love for her eldest son. A hand fell to clutch softly at her womb remembering what it had been like to carry him. She'd known then that her heart was stolen; completely devoted to the life that grew within her as she vehemently vowed to protect him and guard him to the best of her ability. How she had failed him, and his siblings. There would be no going back. It was impossible to change history, but she could hope for a future. The only thing was, she had no idea where to begin. She couldn't understand what made Alec think the way he did. Why he was attracted this this man (centuries old, mind you) instead of a young shadowhunter woman? Was it something she and Robert had done? Was it completely free of any inaction on their part? She could not begin to fathom what Alec was feeling, thinking. Perhaps that was the problem. She gazed at their sleeping forms again, trying to make sense of the information before her.

It had been a long time since she had been held that tenderly. They were so wrapped up in each other that it was almost impossible to differentiate between the two in the low light of the room even with rune enhanced eye sight. The thought nearly broke her. Sure, she missed the contact. Missed being cared for by a loving husband knowing that he cared for her as deeply as she cared for him, but that wasn't the problem. Regardless of the obvious flaws in her marriage, she birthed three beautiful children and adopted another. That meant more to her than anything else. No, what bothered her was her inability to appreciate the clear evidence that someone loved her son the way she wished she could have been loved, and that the only reason she couldn't accept it was because of the gender of his chosen partner.

She was ashamed of herself.

Chin buried deep in her chest, she closed the door as soundlessly as she opened it. The proud Maryse Lightwood was humbled by a love so honest and true. And now that she had come to her realizations, she felt like a voyeur in a private, intimate moment. She needed to plan out her next course of action. Alec deserved better than what he got in a mother; someone caring, accepting and comforting enough to be open with. Instead, he had her, and she vowed now to the angel and herself that she would do her best for him, for all of them. At the moment, she did not know what that meant, but she'd muddle her way through it as best she could. It was the least she could do.

**So I managed to write this with little effort to hold back tears, but as I read it I had tears streaming down my face. It could be because I'm tired, or life is stressful right now, or because I freely admit to having my own mom issues (remember the support comment above?). Who knows? I hope you all liked it, and I hope to have something progressive out to you soon. Is this a satisfactory apology for my absence? **


	8. Interlude Part Deux

**Hey all! Well… I did warn you that it would potentially be a while before I posted. But here I am, and I am happy to report that the next two chapters are started with sizable chunks already written. So… hopefully the next two will flow fairly quickly. Apparently, Maryse wasn't done. She wanted a little bit more face time in this story, so I gave it to her. However she is not the perspective we're following. That being said, this was a little awkward to write simply because it is a perspective I have a hard time getting myself into. I did change the rating, but don't go getting too excited, yet. I merely changed it because of some language. I have quite the repertoire but I try to keep it in check in my writing. Still no luck in the job department. I might be having ample opportunity to write in the not too distant future. I am posting this right after finishing it. I have tried to edit it, but there still might be a few errors. My apologies! **

Interlude Part Deux

Dirt flaked off his thick soled boots and onto the ornate rug beneath his feet further painting the imagery of his tedious and exhausting day. War and battle were easy by comparison to dealing with the aftermath left in their wake. Bodies had to be collected and laid to rest in the arduous fashion of civility and honor. By no means was this a bad thing; quite the opposite. He was privileged to take on such a solemn duty for it was the dream of every shadowhunter to die fighting for the cause. But the day was not without its privations. He could have done without the stares, the judgments, the pitying looks, and the _shame_. He huffed gruffly as his long, aching fingers moved to pull at his shoe strings and bile coated his tongue with a bitter, nauseating taste causing his mouth to salivate just to wash it down. Robert Lightwood was not one to be looked down on. The Lightwood name was noble, honorable. But even as he thought that, another voice rumbled in the darkest crevices of his mind murmuring viciously every error, every wrong. It would seem that his family legacy was that of disgrace, and no matter how much he tried it was beyond his ability to change.

The clack of heeled shoes against the wooden floor involuntarily caused his muscles to tense. He didn't know why the sound set him on edge. By the angel, it shouldn't have. This was just as much Maryse's space as it was his. Be that as it may, the realization that Maryse was coming sunk in. His eyes started to shift across the room at a rapid pace as he suddenly developed a restless tick. A part of him wanted to spring to his feet just for the movement. The rest of him was wringing his fingers together tightly between exacting small, hard tugs on his hair. He felt, for no comprehensible reason, that he was trapped; running out of air, and incapable of escape. Robert realized, then, that his breathing was rising at an alarming rate and that he needed it to slow down before he began to hyperventilate. Anxiety. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in years. Flashbacks flickered through his mind's eye of him waiting as patiently as possible for the clave to decide his fate. Was he going to be stripped of his marks? Would he be executed? What would happen to his son? Nothing about this situation should have made him recall such a trying time. So why couldn't he stop it?

The noise grew earsplitting. It was only a matter of moments before his wife walked through that door, and he needed to get a hold of himself before that encounter. The last thing he needed right now, was to be humiliated in front of the one woman who made him feel impossibly weak. Nothing shook her. She was as immoveable as a statue and just as impervious. It was almost saintly which was rather intimidating and incensing. So needless to say, he was quite shocked at the woman who entered the room. Her countenance was sorrowful and streaked with tears like a weeping angel. It was so unlike Maryse that he was instantly on his feet, all anxiety forgotten. "What's wrong?"

Maryse moved mechanically across the room unblinking before sitting on the opposite side of the bed. The proud set to her jaw began to return as she cleared her throat softly. "Nothing is wrong."

Robert Lightwood did not profess to be the most eloquent person, or the most attuned to social etiquette in progressing conversation. However, he was all too familiar with the "Fuck off" he'd just received. He _hated_ it, but he also knew he really had no right to. Maryse had every right to push him away, whether she was knew it or not. He had an inkling she was aware of at least his past infidelity – things had gotten much chiller between them since she had been pregnant with Max – but they had never spoken of it. Quite frankly, he was more than happy not to broach the subject. What was he supposed to say? "I'm not attracted to you?" That would go over swimmingly… He'd be lucky to have all his limbs still attached.

Robert pinched the bridge of his nose trying to stave off the headache that was building. Their marriage had been a hasty affair, and something that had been more reactionary than planned. In some ways, he wished they could go back and change things, but if he were honest much probably wouldn't have changed. He reigned in those thoughts quickly. They were neither positive nor productive. The bed creaked beneath his weight as he returned to his previous task needing something to center his thoughts while he tried, and failed, to communicate with his wife. Losing Max had been, in many ways, the final straw. He didn't know why he knew that, but he did. Max had been young, spirited, and lively with an innocence that was captivating, and so unlike his siblings. Isabelle, for reasons Robert didn't understand, had a jaded outlook on life dallying with downworlders defiantly looking him in the eye and challenging him to say anything. It had been unnerving and perplexing at first, but now that he had had time to acclimate he'd assumed it was a plea for attention. He and Maryse were not present much so it made sense. And Alexander… Alexander had been the epitome of a sheep following Jace around every which way and letting the other boy get him into trouble. A slight smile graced his lips. He supposed he couldn't be too upset about that; Michael had been just as captivating with his charismatic disposition. Jace was not Michael's son, though. It was a sobering thought that often entangled Robert's thoughts and feelings into a jumbled mess. No matter Jace's lineage, Alexander's offenses were worse still. Absently allowing his _parabatai_ to lead him about was something completely different from engaging in a relationship with not only a downworlder, but a downworlder of the same sex. It was reprehensible, and apparent that his son had absolutely no sense of duty or responsibility. To think, he'd thought that Alexander was making headway and turning into a decent shadowhunter. That night, on the boat, he'd watched him fight hard, ardently and completely without needing his _parabatai_. By the angel, he _saved_ Jace which was probably a first. All of that could have been dealt with in its own way, but Alexander defeated any chance of recovery with publicly kissing that _warlock_ in front of almost every shadowhunter and downworlder on the plane. He had shamed and disappointed them all and just after losing Max. He'd always assumed Isabelle would be the death of him, but obviously not. He glanced over his shoulder at his stoic wife feeling as though he needed to say something. He searched his mind, and licked his chapped lips. "Is Isabelle-"

"Isabelle is at the infirmary with Jace." There was the slightest pause in her speech so minute that only someone who knew her well would notice. "Alexander and Magnus are asleep down the hall."

Fear seeped through his veins followed by the white heat of outrage. Robert rounded on her with surprising speed. "And you let him _stay_?"

He saw the determined gleam in Maryse's eyes before she even spoke. It was something he would always admire, and despise, in her. "Of course I let him stay! What was I supposed to do? Wake them both up and kick him to the curb like refuse? That would go over splendidly with clave and downworlder relations." Robert flinched with the implication though not the one he should have found worrying. He refused to accept the image of his son in bed with another man. Maryse's voice turned twee and grated on Robert's nerves with growing ease. "Actually, that is a wonderful idea. Right after a battle where shadowhunters and downworlders fought together to stave off a dreadful disaster, it would be received satisfactorily." The deep inhale was his only preparation for the scathing remark to come. "Need I remind you that Magnus Bane is one of the most powerful and influential warlocks we know?" Maryse turned her head back to its neutral position as she stared off aimlessly. "This all goes without say, what about Alexander?"

"What about Alexander?" Robert retorted angrily. His son did not need to be influenced by such depravity. As a matter of fact, he would probably benefit from staying in Alicante after everything settles so that he could be separated from all the influences in New York that clearly drove him to this terrible new behavior. "It's just a phase. If we remove him from the warlock's influence, Jace and Isabelle, he'll come to the realization that this is unhealthy and wrong. He has a responsibility as a shadowhunter, and he will remember that."

The air was thick with tension, and Robert found himself growing anxious again. What could have possibly been upsetting in that statement? Maryse had been just as busy as he had been trying to get back into the good graces of the clave. Being a part of Valentine's group had ended disastrously, and she _knew_ how destructive this situation was to their progression. It was not a pleasurable feeling to be an outcast constantly fighting for a place in society and hoping beyond hope that one's transgressions would be left in the past. "I am not taking my son away from someone he loves."

"Maryse, everyone is laughing at us."

"And I don't care." Her voice was cool, collected. "Not anymore." Before Robert even had a moment to comprehend what was happening, she was speaking again. "The clave decided that a celebration would be prudent for working together with the downworlders and for agreeing to a council. It is going to happen tomorrow. The majority of the wounded should be healed by then, and the downworlders support the idea. We're going to introduce ourselves properly to Magnus and give Alexander our full support."

"WHAT?" Robert jumped to his feet and turned on his wife with wide eyes. This was not happening. Any and all credibility would be shattered, and his family honor would be ruined beyond repair. The voice in the back of his mind drew forth all the deeds that they would carry to their graves, and fear burrowed deep within his being. He could already hear the criticisms. That _he_ was the start of it all joining Valentines group, and then pleading for exile and cooperation. It put them in the prime position where they _had_ to interact with downworlders, Magnus especially. His hands tightened into white knuckled fists. He brought this on himself exposing his son to such revolting beings and then pretending as if everything was well between them. Alexander had been manipulated and brainwashed. He wasn't going to encourage this. "Absolutely not. I refuse to accept this phase, or that flamboyant _downworlder_. It would be in your best interest to reconsider your choices, Maryse. Despite what has happened in these past few days, do you honestly believe the clave will turn a kind eye on this? They could strip his marks! If you had any love for Alexander, you'd turn him from this road right now!"

Maryse was on her feet in the smooth rolling fluidity of royalty; the ice queen on her pedestal. Her eyes were piercing, nailing him to the ground and immobilizing him with a mere look. "Do not question the love I have for my son." The threat was undeniable, and Robert dreaded what open ended tortures she'd possibly imagined. It sent an unwanted chill through his nerves, but he refused to be intimidated into subjectivity.

"Introduce yourself if you must, but you can't make me participate in this fiasco."

"That is where you are wrong, Robert. I can." Maryse's voice was steely; all of her previous fatigue gone. The change in her tone and demeanor were obvious, and Robert felt the hairs on his neck begin to rise as if preparing for an attack. There was nothing she could do that would make him change his mind. Nothing. "Rumors are a dangerous thing. A story can be twisted and manipulated as it passes from one person to the next distorting the truth before one has any opportunity to set it straight."

"What's your point, Maryse?" Robert huffed unnerved at his inability to understand what the basis of her diatribe was.

Maryse was not dissuaded. "You're the one who is worried about what the clave will think, Robert. So, answer me this: What would they think if we show up at the party separately, tomorrow? What will the clave think when you snub a downworlder at a function prepared, in part, _for_ downworlders? What would the clave think if I started telling everyone that it was Michael's idea we date?" Robert couldn't help but fix her with a peculiar look. Questions were being thrown at him quicker than he could digest them. Beyond that, it had been so long ago he nearly forgotten about how he and Maryse first got together, and it seemed so completely unrelated to what they were discussing. He was about to voice this when she continued nonchalant, and flippant – two things Maryse Lightwood was most definitely not which was enough cause for alarm. "That, in and of itself, is not particularly shocking, but coupled with your affair…" A deep seated worry started to bloom in the pit of his stomach as he stared at her with wide eyes. "Did you think I didn't know?

Robert fish mouthed as he searched for something to say. What could he say? Everything was crumbling around him and he found himself freefalling. "I… I… I…"

"You're what? Sorry?" He wanted to say yes, but it felt wrong. Her cold fury was palpable, and he knew to step lightly. He had learned quickly, in their relationship, that Maryse was far more capable at winning a fight. She was all logic and objectivity where he was impassioned. All she had to do was prod him enough to get lost in his emotions and she'd destroy him. She had many a time before. Was it wrong that he had an affair? Irrevocably, yes. Should he apologize for it? Yes, but he refused to walk into the trap she'd laid for him. The exchange was vivid in his mind's eye. Maryse would demand to know why it persisted if he had truly been apologetic for doing it in the first place, and he didn't have an answer. That was what startled him the most. He had no logical reason for why he had continued the affair because to put it bluntly, it wasn't love. His wife's voice broke through his thoughts. "People will draw their own conclusions, but before you continue this pigheaded crusade consider what the prevailing rumors will be. A man unsettled in a marriage he went through at the urging of his _parabatai_, the one person he openly mourned, has a gay son."

"That is not what happened." Robert growled. An irrational anger burned through his veins. All he wanted her to do was stop talking. He didn't want to hear this. It made him inexplicably uncomfortable and he didn't want to think on the matter anymore. Beyond that, the situation was more complicated than that. She _knew_ that.

Maryse had the nerve to look triumphant. The razor sharp gleam in her eye proclaimed she had him exactly where she wanted him, and Robert couldn't help but feel trapped, again. "It doesn't have to be. All that matters is what they hear. Judgments are quick to be decided and lasting in impression. No matter how much effort you put forth, an overwhelming majority of the clave will have already established an opinion of you based on your own actions."

And in one fell swoop, Robert was defeated. Now that the map had been laid out before him, it was so easy to see. If he didn't support Alexander, and his… choices, Maryse would hang him out to dry turning most of the attention from Alexander to Robert. It was a brilliant move (classic Maryse), and one that would further bury the hatchet in his ability to save his namesake. He would be even more isolated from the Clave than he was in exile. She had cornered him quite well, but she'd also cornered herself. Could he risk the possibility that her pride would get the better of her; that in her desire to not be pitied, self-preservation would outweigh this self-righteous stand. He regarded her for a long moment, looking for any nervous tick that would give him leverage. There was none. All his anger, anxiety, and honor left him through a deep, longwinded sigh. He wouldn't chance it. He didn't know the woman before him. Something had happened within her that had changed her, and considering their already tenuous relationship he had no way of knowing her limits.

Robert nodded his acquiescence solemnly, but his wife was not done. "You have drained me of any ability to love beyond the love I have for my children." It did not go unnoticed that she said "mine" instead of "our", and it hurt. He may not be the best at expressing his emotions, but he loved his children more than anything. What was worse was the opportunity Maryse had given him to see her in weakness. She was allowing him to see just what he had done to her thereby twisting the knife in his side even deeper. The impenetrable armor she'd worn all her life was a fallacy. He wanted to hug her, hold her to him and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but it felt wrong. They were beyond that point, and there was no way of going back. "I swear by the angel, I won't let you do that to Alexander. We thought we knew who he was, but we had no clue. He came alive the day Magnus Bane walked into his life. I admit that I don't understand it, but I see what it has done for him. You'd rather him be miserable and alone because it suits your needs. Your selfishness knows no bounds, and I am truly disgusted to call you my husband. I only hope, for your sake Robert, that you can live with the decisions you've made." In the time it took him to flinch, Maryse had gone back to preparing for bed, and the rest of his world shattered into thousands of irretrievable pieces.

**Maryse took on some of my bad habits in this one, i.e. being a manipulative, vindictive bitch. I confess they are bad. Believe me, I know they are. But anyway, in rereading what I have written thus far, I have come to realize that my writing style changes with the perspective that I am writing from. I find this fascinating, yet fitting because it paints a better portrait of the individual characters. I admit that this might be a bit choppy because it's a perspective I have difficulty writing, but I also feel like a lot of it was just Robert. I feel like he tries to avoid deep thoughts for various reasons. I dance around the possibility that Robert has latent homosexual tendencies partially because I find the possibility intriguing. I was also thinking about it because the pictures I have seen Cassandra Jean post on tumblr of Robert and Michael where they are discussing Maryse, I recall a Michael being the one to point stuff out. For example that as Maryse gets taller her skirts get shorter, and I find myself transposing Michael and Robert on Jace and Alec. Hopefully people like it. It's not my best work, but I didn't delete it instead of posting it. So I don't hate it either. Next chapter shouldn't be too far off. Like I said, I already have a sizeable part of it written. My job situation has brought out my depression a bit simply because people at work are making life miserable and I have no desire to get up every morning to go. This too shall pass, but its wreaking havoc on my productivity. Reviews are always nice; they stimulate the desire to continue writing. :D**


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